The Children's War
by Bruce Pendragon
Summary: A year has passed since the Little Planet, a year in which Ivo Robotonik has turned up the heat immensely on Sonic and the Knothole Freedom Fighters. And now, his latest weapon threatens to make their efforts meaningless. Mix of SatAM and older games.
1. Preface

A word from the author

Greetings, old school Sonic fans! Let me start off by saying that this story leans mainly on the old SatAM for its setting, while still attempting to fit a few of the games into the continuity. Since the game elements make the history leading up to the story a bit confusing, below is a brief timeline of the games I'm drawing on in the story. If I don't list a game here, just assume I'm considering it non-canonical. Harsh, I know, but I'm claiming authorial license. Also, please keep in mind that a few episodes of the SatAm just have to be disregarded when you take the games into consideration. An episode from season two springs to mind where Dulcy asks Sally "Why don't you use the two Time Stones? They're on the Floating Island." (Shudder)

Also, let me say, as I stated on my profile page, that this story is to be the second part of my "Vanguard" Saga. The first volume, Southern Cross Dream, is listed elsewhere on this site. However, if you haven't read it, this story should be perfectly able to stand on its own. The rest of the low-down on the Vanguard Saga is on my profile page.

Sonic the Hedgehog SatAM: Sonic and the Freedom Fighters struggle against Robotnik, the dictator of Mobius, who rules from his capitol city of Robotropolis.

Sonic CD: On a trip from Knothole to Never Lake to see the so-called "Little Planet," Sonic finds that Robotnik has taken it over. During the trip, Sonic meets a new rival: Metal Sonic (Also noted for being the first appearance of Amy Rose). He also runs into the prototype of the roboticizer variant that will later be used on non-sentient beings, originally using seeds to power robots. For now, it has two flaws: one, the badniks created this way deteriorate rapidly and two, the machine that turns seeds into robots must act as a central control core which, if destroyed, takes all the badniks it created down with it.

Sonic the Hedgehog, Sega Genesis: After suffering a defeat during the "Little Planet Initiative," Robotnik captures the Chaos Emeralds and Sonic goes on a mission without the Freedom Fighters to the "Scrap Brain" in Robotropolis to get them back from him. He only manages to recover six, however, and Robotnik is able to use the seventh to begin tracking the six he lost.

Sonic the Hedgehog 2, Sega Genesis: Robotnik has tracked down the Chaos Emeralds Sonic took from him, and is using them to power his newest weapon, the "Death Egg" station. Sonic attempts to go stop him again, but Sally has put her foot down on his solo shenanigans. So Sonic takes Tails with him (something Sally never would have knowingly allowed). His excuse: "hey, it wasn't a solo mission anymore." During the fight, Sonic and Tails scuttle Robotnik's "Wing Fortress," which crashes onto Angel Island. On a trip to the Death Egg, Sonic meets Robo-Sonic (or Metallix or Silver Sonic if you prefer), an earlier prototype for Metal Sonic.

Sonic the Hedgehog 3/Sonic & Knuckles, Sega Genesis: The Death Egg crashes on Angel Island, the original home of the Chaos Emeralds. Robotnik goes to rebuild it, and Sonic and Tails follow him there. Here Robotnik discovers the Master Emerald, and steals it, using it instead of the Chaos emeralds to power the reconstructed Death Egg. He also hastily jury-rigs the Wing Fortress's wreck into a blimp, renaming it the "Flying Battery Blimp."In the end, Sonic destroys the Death Egg once and for all, in the process making a reluctant ally in the person of Knuckles, the Angel Island Guardian and last of the Knuckles Clan of echidnas. This game also featured the return of Metal Sonic. Though he was badly damaged twice, once by Sonic and again by Knuckles, his final fate is uncertain. Lastly, this block featured yet another of Robotnik's commanders: Eggrobo. This design proves so successful that a badnik version is soon after mass-produced.

Sonic Adventure 1: on ordersSonic and Tails travel to Station Square, the capitol of the Human Nation, only to find that Robotnik is already there, and has unleashed a monster called Chaos upon the city. The E-series of semi-autonomous badniks gets a failed test run in this game, only to be destroyed by one of their own.

There are also nods to a few games that do not completely fit. For example, the Chaotix will make a cameo appearance. Also, while Sonic Adventure 2 threw too many changes into effect for me to use it, there is reference to Sonic's 'Super Sonic" transformation as "Chaos Control," a term coined in SA2. Finally, allow me to say this. I do not draw from the Archie Comics Sonic The Hedgehog series. For one thing, Archie comics is one of the few sources prohibited in the Terms of Service agreement. The exception is that I do borrow the **name only** of one character to appear in the comics. The name, however, and his relationship to Tails, are the only things that are the same. All other aspects of the character have been redesigned. The character, who will make his appearance later in the story, is Merlin Prower.

But enough talk from me. The story awaits. I hope you enjoy it. And as always, thanks for reading.  
-Bruce Pendragon


	2. Prologue

Timestream: Book Two of the Vanguard Saga  
Prologue: The Gifts of Few

Speed.

There was an addictive quality to the thing, he thought as he blitzed across the open plains, a quality that kept him coming back to it, wanting more of it. The feel of the wind rushing past his face, the sight of hills flying by in a blur, the way the world seemed to fade into a less distinct focus, it was his greatest thrill in life. This, he felt, was the way life was meant to be.

Pure, unbridled speed.

Oh, it could be had from a well-made hover unit, or a jet, or a million other marvels of modern engineering, but nothing he knew could match the feeling of screaming through the world like a comet on his own two feet. What's more, he thought smugly, was that he was one of only a handful of people on the planet Mobius who would ever know what that kind of speed felt like without a vehicle. Thought by some to be a freak, by others a genetic marvel, and by others a mere fluke, he was gifted with the strength to move at speeds faster than most other living creatures. Faster than some vehicles. Faster even than sound, and so he called himself "Sonic." Even those closest to him didn't know his real name, but only knew him as Sonic, the "blue streak". In truth, he liked it that way. It was a name that suited him: a name that told of speed.

He wasn't sure how he came to have this power. Perhaps he had been born with it, or perhaps some kind of unexplainable accident had given him this power. He didn't remember. All he knew was that his earliest memory was of speed, and of running: running for his life, as his home burned…

But he didn't think about that. There was no need to think of that right now. There would come a time, he had learned, when the fury that came from thinking of the childhood home that he lost would be useful. But this was not one of those times. That would all come soon enough. It always did. For now, though, running through the Great Eastern Plains of his homeland, he only thought of speed.

"_Sonic, do you read me?"_

The voice, which came from a communicator clipped onto Sonic's backpack, was that of Princess Sally Acorn, the last in a dynasty of squirrels who had ruled Mobius with wisdom and generosity for nearly five hundred years. Yet Sonic found it in no way odd that a squirrel was talking to him. In point of fact, he himself was a hedgehog. Slowing down just long enough to reach over his shoulder and disconnect the communicator from its loop, he responded. "Loud and clear, Sal. How's it goin'?"

"_Not great, I'm afraid. Something's happening in Robotroplois."_

Sonic groaned. "What's ol' Blubber bot up to this time?"

"_I'm not sure, Sonic, but I need you back at Knothole right away. What's your location?"_

"Let's see. I'm passing Never Lake right now, headed east."

"_What? Sonic, how many times have I told you, stay within-"_

"Ree-Laaaaaaax, Sal. It's only a few dozen miles. I'll be there in a flash." Skidding to a halt, Sonic turned around and started running back the direction he came, with all possible speed.

And for Sonic the Hedgehog, 'all possible speed' was truly saying something.

* * *

To be a fox, Miles Prower thought happily, was a wonderful thing. Indeed, there were those among foxes who believed that their kind should give daily thanks to whatever power governed the cosmos for making them foxes and not some other race. There were days when Miles agreed with them. It was not, of course, that Miles was a racist. He had no disdain for non-foxes, nor any illusions of fox superiority. Quite the contrary, most of the people whom he held in the highest esteem were non-foxes. It was simply that he could think of no greater joy than the joy of being a fox. 

…Well, perhaps there was _one_ greater joy.

And that, he thought still more happily, was the joy that seemed to be his alone, the joy of being a two-tailed fox. For Miles was indeed such a fox, and gifted not only with an extra tail, but with the inexplicable ability to wind his two tails up tightly and unleash them in a perpetual propeller-like motion, enabling him to achieve either flight, or superb land speed, as the whim struck him. How he did this without winding his tails back around themselves was quite beyond him. According to all known laws of physics, it should not have been possible. However, Miles (or "Tails," as his friends called him) did not care about that right now. All he cared about was the simple joy of flying. To him it was, as his mentor Sonic would have said, "the single most way-past-outrageously-cool thing in the universe."

"Tails," a calm voice called from under the tree canopy far below him, "I think you should come back down."

"Awww," Tails whined back. "Can't I fly a little longer, Aunt Sally?" Though only three years his senior, the thirteen year old fox referred to Sally as his 'aunt' because she had been primarily responsible for his upbringing since he was a toddler. That had been at a time when Sally, only five years old herself, had found herself the leader of a group of children who escaped the destruction of the Mobian Capital city, Mobitropolis (now called Robotropolis), during the mad genius Dr. Ivo "Eggman" Robotnik's rise to power.

"Nothing doing, Tails," Sally said firmly. "You know Robotnik's been more active than usual lately."

"I'll be careful," Tails insisted.

"Tails," Sally repeated warningly.

"Alright, alright," Tails moped as he slowly let himself fall through the leafy canopy, skillfully avoiding branches as he descended until his feet finally came to rest on the loamy ground of the hidden village of Knothole, in the middle of Mobius's Great Eastern Forest. "Okay, Aunt Sally. I'm down," he said unhappily as he landed.

"Thanks, Tails," Sally smiled back at him. "If it makes you feel any better, I have an important assignment for you."

Tails eyes immediately lit up again. "Really? An assignment?"

Sally nodded. "I need you to find all the Freedom Fighters and have them meet me at the waterfall in one hour. Tell them it's urgent. Can you do that for me?"

Tails clicked his heels together and raised his hand sharply to his brow in an imitation of a salute. "Right away, Aunt Sally." With that, the young fox wound up his tails and dashed off into the woods, or rather, the village, seeking the Freedom Fighters.

The Freedom Fighters, for they knew themselves by no other name, were the now adolescent survivors of Mobitropolis's conquest eleven years prior who, having escaped from the city to Knothole Village, now made it their life's work to overthrow the dictator and restore freedom to their world. An outside observer would likely note that childhood had passed the Freedom Fighters by, replaced by the horrors of a war that sometimes seemed unwinnable. Early on, before most were even ten, they learned what it meant to lose comrades in battle. To fall behind, they discovered, meant certain capture and death, or worse yet and more likely: a turn in the Roboticizer.

If one were to ask any one of the Freedom Fighters to name Dr. Robotnik's most hated and sickening weapon, they could be counted on, without fail, to point out the Roboticizer. The nanite-driven machine's workings were complex, and the principles that governed its operation were in many ways contradictory, but its function was clear, concise, and horrendous: to transform a living, breathing, sentient being into a soulless automaton driven by one underlying law programmed deep into its memory core: obey Robotnik. A few of the Freedom Fighters could tell stories, if one could persuade them to entertain the chilling subject, of missions where they had come face to face, and far too often barrel to barrel, with roboticized family and friends. As near as the Freedom Fighters could tell, Roboticization had been the fate suffered by the denizens of Mobitropolis, as well as most of the planet.

And still, the Freedom Fighters knew, the maniac's hunger for power wasn't satisfied. Ever incensed by the continued resistance of the Freedom Fighters, Robotnik continued to pursue still more hideous engines of war, and had made great advances in this field during the past thirteen months. In fact, though Tails did not know it, it was one such advance that, upon coming to Sally's attention, prompted Tails' current mission of assembling the Freedom Fighters at the waterfall outside of Knothole. Though Tails did not know it, this same advance would soon set in motion events which would turn the course of the eternal Mobian war between freedom and tyranny.

Though Tails did not know it, he would not be there to see most of it.


	3. Chapter One

Chapter One:  
The Last Bastion

The commander of Lord Robotnik's flagship, the _E.G.G. Carrier_, stood on a hill outside the city looking back at the horrific spectacle. The broken remains of what was once a road led into the city, disappearing among the fires that consumed the once grand skyscrapers. Plumes of smoke curled into the air like the departed souls of his foes, for his own forces had none. Laser and machine gun fire pierced the early morning air, and artillery rumbled its response from both sides as the forces of Robotnik's Empire closed in around the Human capitol, Station Square. Farther into the city interior, his optical circuits zoomed in on a hastily banded mob of Humans rushing out into the only road leading past the city's inner wall, crashing into the advancing mechanized forces like warring tidal waves.

The fighting had only begun an hour ago, and already the city's outer defenses had fallen. Station Square's defenders fell in droves, while legions of his own troops waited in reserve. The armies would clash for the remainder of the day, and possibly long into the night, but the endgame had already been written. By noon of the following day, the victor's would be herding their captives into roboticizers. He knew he could speed the operation by taking the field of battle himself, but Lord Robotnik's standing order for him was to engage only in extreme combat. It kept him shrouded in mystery, and mystery invoked fear, a powerful weapon. Besides, if he were seen in action at every battle, it was possible, or so Lord Robotnik told him, that his enemies could find a weakness that could be used against him. The notion that a weapon handcrafted by Lord Robotnik himself could be flawed seemed blasphemous to him, but he did not question the word of his Overlord.

And so he watched from his distant perch with detached half-interest. Station Square, the last bastion of Free Humans on Mobius, was fallen. With the remaining fortified cities of the Old Mobitropolis Commonwealth dwindling with each passing day, this meant only Angel Island and the Canine Coalition in the West stood between Lord Robotnik and complete dominion over Mobius. No, he corrected himself. There were still those who resisted. One of them was the rival whom he had faced only twice, suffering defeat both times, the rival in whose image he had been manufactured. It was this very rival whom he longed to face again. And this time, he assured himself, it was this same rival who would fall, and it mattered little to him whether his rival fell by death or by roboticization. As his steel fists clenched, he growled the maxim by which every war droid in the empire existed, to remind himself that even with his crushing victory today, his purpose was far from fulfilled.

"_Hedgehog: priority-one."_

* * *

_Regeneration cycle complete: Initiating systems diagnostic_  
_Processor Operation… Normal  
__Main Chassis Integrity… Normal  
__Sensory Systems Operation… Normal_

_Program Check:  
__Primary Directive: Obey Robotnik  
__Secondary Directive: Engage rebels on sight_

_Unit Identification:  
__Registry Number… 0000001  
__Designation… Robotnik_

The regeneration cycle ended, and the transparent aluminum door of Dr. Robotnik's rejuvenation pod slid open. "Good morning, sir," said a small man with a large nose. The small man was bald, with a simplistic, sickeningly bright green uniform, and spoke in a nasal voice so thickly accented his words more closely resembled 'gud mauning, seh.' "I hope you slept well."

"Come now, Snivelly. We both know you hope no such thing," Robotnik rebutted in a breathy voice as he stepped out of his regeneration pod and onto the floor of his command room on the one hundred seventh floor of the control center of Robotropolis. "But yes, I slept well indeed." As he spoke thus, Robotnik stretched his arms above his head and yawned, a habit left over from the days before his self-roboticization. His mechanized body did not require the gesture, but he enjoyed the symbolism in it. It said that the report his underling waited patiently to render was almost beneath his notice, and that he had all the time in the world to hear the report at his own leisure. Finally, he looked almost directly down at Snivelly. "Report," he said casually, stroking the titanium wires of his enormous orange mustache as he did so.

Snivelly gulped audibly as Robotnik's gaze fell upon him, but managed to maintain enough composure to deliver his report. "W-w-well, sir, we're receiving a transmission from the _E.G.G. Carrier_. The commander reports they're on their final approach, and he requests landing clearance."

Robotnik waited. "And?"

"And, sir, I thought-"

"Ah," Robotnik's one-word interruption was barely audible, more a breath than a word, but it succeeded in cutting Snivelly off. "And therein, Snivelly, lies the problem. You continue to engage in activities for which you are ill-suited." As he said this, Robotnik clasped his hands together behind his back and began to walk toward an enormous swiveling chair in the center of the room with his usual slow, arrogant gait. His yellow cape billowed behind him, daring anyone to point out how ridiculous it looked next to his glaringly red uniform.

Snivelly, tugged at his collar, which seemed suddenly tighter than usual, and stammered. "I d-d-don't understand, sir."

"My point is made, then," Robotnik said lazily. Snivelly gulped a second time, and Robotnik, who was now facing away from the tiny man, grinned sadistically at his minion's fear: fear, Robotnik knew, of finding himself next in line for the roboticizer. In truth, Snivelly was not as incompetent as Robotnik told him that he was. Quite the contrary, actually, Snivelly had more than once proven himself to possess a cunning and dangerous mind, a quality Robotnik prized, which was noticeably lacking in roboticized beings. Robotnik knew that it would be quite a waste to roboticize the man. In fact, he'd once thought to leave the day-to-day operations of his capitol to Snivelly so he could focus on the global concerns of consolidating his empire. Unfortunately, Snivelly possessed another trait, one which Robotnik did everything in his power to curb: ambition.

To leave Snivelly unchecked, Robotnik knew, would be suicide. As Robotnik's nephew, Snivelly knew he was the only heir to the empire, and he would undoubtedly scheme and plot his way to ascension, even if it meant assassinating his uncle. No, Snivelly would have to be kept on a short leash until one of three things happened. Either Snivelly would realize he served his future interests best by serving Robotnik in the present, Robotnik would be ancient enough to abdicate his throne to his heir, or Snivelly would prove too troublesome and have to be roboticized. For the time being, this meant keeping him close at hand, and enforcing his obedience through insults and threats.

Robotnik took his seat in the chair (not so much sitting in the chair as lying on it) and swiveled toward Snivelly, fingers now laced together in front of him. Snivelly gulped again, but did not move. "Well?" Robotnik's voice elevated only slightly.

"W-w-well what, sir?" Beads of sweat the size of eggs formed on Snivelly's forehead as he spoke.

"The rest of the report from the _E.G.G. Carrier_, Snivelly," Robotnik barked.

"Oh, y-y-yes sir," Snivelly sniveled, looking down at a datapad he'd been carrying and beginning to read it off. "The command droid reports, sir, that Station Square has fallen. Enemy casualties were higher than expected, but the commander assures us there are enough captives to repair the damage done to Task Force E.G.G, with an estimated 25,000 left over to ship to the A.I. project.

Robotnik nodded approvingly. "Excellent," he said, drawing the word out languorously. "Provided, of course, that a certain someone has made a bit more progress on the A.I. project than his previous reports would lead me to believe." His voice rose throughout the sentence until he was screaming at the miniature man.

Snivelly, sensing his tenuous grip on the dictator's favor slipping away, gulped yet again, his collar now soaked with sweat from his forehead despite the chilling temperature inside the sterile room. "Y-y-yes sir, I have, sir. Construction of the device is 95 percent complete, and field testing can begin in ninety-six hours, provided a suitable power source can be found, sir."

Robotnik appeared unmoved. "Did you say ninety-six hours, Snivelly?"

"Y-y-yes sir, but-"

"DO NOT INTERRUPT ME, SNIVELLY!" Robotnik bellowed, cutting him off. "I want you to listen very closely, because I will only say this once. Is that clear, Snivelly?"

Yet another gulp. "Yes sir."

"What I am going to say is this: excellent work," Robotnik said before swiveling his chair back toward the plethora of viewscreens on the far wall of the room.

"T-t-thank you, sir."

* * *

At the waterfall outside Knothole Village, Sally looked around at the assembled Freedom Fighters, making sure everyone was present. Antoine D'coulette, the coyote, stood tall and proud at the water's edge, the perfect picture of his family's military heritage. While most Mobians considered clothing a Human custom, one for which they found little use, Antoine wore the uniform of his father, the late captain of the Mobitropolis Guard, complete with the swordbelt and ceremonial saber at his left side.

Beside Antoine, seated on a large rock outcropping was the petite figure of Bunnie, a rabbit as her name suggested, with light brown fur. Like Antoine, Bunny favored the Human custom of clothing, although in her case it seemed more for decoration than anything else. She wore a purple, tight-fitting, single-piece article similar to what Sally had heard Humans call a "bathing suit," with a hole cut for her tail. The last, as usual, was perfectly fluffed and, while most Mobians kept their tails modestly tucked away when seated, Bunnie's was thrust provocatively over the back of the rock where she sat. Bunnie's most notable feature, however, was her mechanical limbs. Her left arm, and her body from the waist down (except the aforementioned tail) were mechanical, courtesy of a last minute rescue from the clutches of the roboticizer. It occurred to Sally that the attention Bunnie drew to her tail might have been to remind herself the roboticizer had not taken her completely. On the other hand, Bunnie knew quite well what passed through the minds of most males among the Freedom Fighters at the sight of her perfect tail.

Dismissing the question of Bunnie's motive for later, Sally went on to glance at Tails, the orange-furred fox, hovering excitedly in the air above Sonic, who -Sally noted with a sigh- was relaxing comfortably on a rock hanging perilously far over the waterfall. Sonic was lying on his back, resting his head on his hands, careful not to interfere with his mohawked quills of course. Sonic's face was bright with his usual cocky grin. Everyone, it seemed, was there. Everyone except…

The approaching hum of a hover unit's repulsor engine drew Sally's attention. Since Robotnik rarely reconned this far out, and sent large flights when he did, she decided the isolated engine had to be the last member of the combat mission squad of the Freedom Fighters. As the rest of the Freedom Fighters turned their heads one by one toward the sound, the dark green hull of the vaguely egg-shaped craft, stolen from Robotnik's own fleet, appeared over the treetops and the unit began to hover over the waterfall clearing, then to descend. As the unit touched down and the doors opened, the first person to emerge from the port side door was Rotor, a heavy set purple walrus and the Freedom Fighter's chief combat engineer. Rotor was followed by -and Sally braced herself for the awkward encounter- a group of Humans, members of the species that spawned Robotnik and Snivelly.

Sally shook those thoughts from her head instantly. The people of Station Square couldn't be blamed for Robotnik's coup. They were as threatened by Robotnik as were the Freedom Fighters. More so, in fact, judging from the distress call that had drawn Rotor to Station Square in the first place. As Sally looked at Rotor, awaiting information, Humans began unloading wounded on stretchers from the craft. Those few survivors, it occurred to Sally, could easily be the last free Humans on Mobius.

The other Freedom Fighters began to gather around as Rotor approached Sally, followed by one of the Humans, and by the time Rotor spoke all eyes were fixed upon him. "Your Highness," Rotor spoke with a formal tone only used when high-profile ambassadors came to Knothole, "Rufus Penn Drake, Viceroy of Station Square."

Sally and the Viceroy each bowed and hastily exchanged the expected niceties, and then Sally got straight to the point. "Viceroy, what happened?"

The viceroy shook his head. "We never had a chance. The city and its defenses were already in ruins from the 'Perfect Chaos' incident. That's why I sent a distress signal as soon as we detected Robotnik's forces approaching. I had to try and protect our two guests at all costs." He paused. "Your craft was the only response we received, and I thank you."

_Thank my father_, Sally thought, _for giving me that disk with the locations of the other Freedom Fighter cells. Otherwise Sonic wouldn't have been there to even stop Perfect Chaos_. "And are these 'guests' with you now?"

The Viceroy looked at his feet in despair, and Rotor was left to speak for him. "They were right behind us when we started to evacuate, but we got separated."

At Sally's questioning look, the Viceroy found his voice again. "Some kind of artillery blast hit the capitol building and the ceiling collapsed. They were on one side of the rubble, and we were on the other. We tried to get to them, but the SWATbots were already inside. It was all we could do to escape with our own lives."

Sally nodded her understanding. "Viceroy, I'm sure it's been a nightmare. Antoine and Tails will see that you and your wounded are given quarters and medical treatment." Bowing again and thanking Sally, the Viceroy followed Antoine and Tails as they led him to the spare huts in the Northeast corner of Knothole. Once they were out of earshot, Sally turned hastily to Rotor. "Rotor, were those two really what he said they were?"

Rotor nodded. "Yeah, they were Ancient Ones."

"Oh, mah stars," Bunnie cried. "Ancient Ones? Fer real?"

"Freakin' awesome!" Sonic offered his thoughts.

"No, Sonic," Sally corrected. "It's not awesome, because that means Robotnik has them now. But, I'd think they would have been able to take care of themselves without needing us to evacuate them."

Rotor nodded once. "Yeah, that's the fun part, Sal. See, I thought the same thing too, so I was a little skeptical until I got there and met them." His face grew serious. "They're children, Sal."

"Children?" Sonic looked confused. "I thought you said they were Ancient Ones."

"They're the race of the Ancient Ones, yes," Rotor confirmed. "But they're only kids. They're probably not any older than Tails."

"Well, we've got t' talk to the Viceroy then, find out what we're gonna do about getting' em back," Bunnie said urgently.

"The Viceroy already requested to meet with all of us as soon as the wounded are safely moved in," Rotor said. "I think he's got more to tell us."

"Oh, man," Sonic said, kicking a small rock into the stream. "Looks like I'm gonna have to put that trip to Never Lake on hold.

Sally briefly considered telling Sonic something about his trip to Never Lake, but thought better of it. "Alright then, everyone at the meeting cottage in one hour."

* * *

"They carved us up like a roast," Viceroy Drake said hauntingly to the conference table assembly of the Freedom Fighters, which, at Sonic's urging, included Tails. "Two legions of SWATbots charged the outer barricades, that airship took out all our fortified positions from so far out that nothing we had could hit it… it was just one sledgehammer after another. It was once they were inside the city that things got weird."

Sally pressed on. "Weird how, Viceroy?"

"Well we expected the SWATbots, but there were more kinds of robots than we knew Robotnik used. And when we managed to hit one hard enough to break its armor, animals would fall out with wires and things sticking out of them."

Sonic and Tails exchanged a knowing look and Sonic spoke up. "I know what you're talking about, Viceroy. It's a new kind of roboticizer called the robotizer. Yeah, I know, you're gonna get the names mixed up. So do I. Anyway, Lord lard started experimenting with it about a year ago. Basically, he takes a small animal, hooks up a bunch of machines and junk that trap body heat and brain waves and uses the animal to power a robot. That way, instead of needing a fusion cell for every war droid, all he needs is a feeding tube for whatever animal is powering the bot. Tails and I have seen about a billion different kinds of 'em too."

The Viceroy looked at Sally incredulously. "Is this true?"

Sally sighed. "Sonic and Tails are the only ones who have ever actually seen anything like it, but we've read files in the Robotropolis mainframe that say he's been working on something like this for years."

"We call robots like that 'badniks,'" Tails explained.

Drake rubbed his eyes wearily. "It's not bad enough that he enslaves our people, but now even the animals serve him."

"Viceroy," Sally urged him on. "Why were two Ancient Ones taking shelter in Station Square?"

The Viceroy drummed on the table for a moment before he spoke. "Humans have always had closer ties to the Ancient Ones than any Mobian species, largely owing to the fact that our legends say it was the Ancient Ones who first brought us from across the stars to Mobius. Still, we heard almost nothing from the for the past three centuries," he paused meaningfully, "until ten years ago."

"Okay, come one," Sonic griped. "Cut the suspense and tell us what happened."

Sally glared at Sonic, but the viceroy went on. "Ten years ago an Ancient One, he didn't tell us his name, but his power proved he was the real thing, left two four-year-old twins, a male and a female, in the custody of my Father, who was Viceroy at the time."

It was Antoine who spoke up. "An yet you 'ave been able to hide zem all zees time from ze clutches of Robotneek?"

Momentarily caught off guard by Antoine's accent, the Viceroy hesitated before answering. "Yes, yes we have, at least until recently. But when Robotnik came to the city during the Perfect Chaos incident…"

Sally nodded and filled in the gap for him. "He somehow found out, and now he came back to capture them."

"But that doesn't make sense," Bunny protested. "Ol' Botnik can't think he can roboticize an Ancient One, even if it is a li'l ol' kid. Ah mean, if one o' Sonic's power rings can block a roboticizer beam, an Ancient One's bound to be able to do more."

Sally nodded her agreement. "Bunnie's right. If Robotnik's going after a pair of Ancient Ones, he must think he's found some way to harness their power."

Antoine's eyes widened. "Mon Deus, harness zeir power. Zat est it! Ze Badnik machine monsieur Hog-hedge spoke of."

"It's 'hedgehog,' Ant," Sonic corrected. "Hedge, hog. Get it right."

But the assembly took little notice of Antoine's linguistic slip, concerned more with his conclusion. "Wait," Sally said. "Viceroy, I thought you said these two were weaker because they're young."

The Viceroy shook his head. "They aren't as able to use their power, but they still have more ambient energy around them than a chaos emerald. If an animal can power a war droid, an Ancient One could power…" he faltered.

"Another Death Egg," Sonic spat. "Or a whole city of bots, or worse. Oh, man, I say we break into the city, dust Butt-nik's brass ass and get them back."

"Sonic," Sally interrupted. "Robotnik will have them guarded like the Master Emerald."

"Well Tails 'n' I got past what he had guarding the Master Emerald," Sonic rebuffed.

Sally shook her head. "We need to know what he's planning, and I think I may have an idea." Having said this, she reached down to her boot and drew a mechanical square no bigger than her hand. At the push of a button the square unfolded on a hinge along what appeared to be it's top, revealing a keypad on the inside of one half and a holo-projector on the inside of the other. "Viceroy, meet Nichole."

The Viceroy raised a skeptic eyebrow. "What's a Nichole?"

_"Nano Interfacing Computer and HOLogram Emitter,"_ the machine answered in a calm, feminine voice, it's holo-porjector glowing faintly blue as it did so. The Viceroy stared, open-mouthed at Nichole, his mouth silently forming the words "it talks."

"Nichole," Sally spoke to the machine, "Access the file you downloaded on our last mission to Robotropolis."

_"Accessing, Sally."_ Nichole made a few beeping noises for a moment before a holographic projection of a text file appeared in the air just above her projector screen._ "Project number seven four one five two eight six. Code name, the A.I. Project,"_ Nichole read the file heading aloud.

Tails shook his head in disagreement. "A.I.? But Robotnik's been using artificial intelligence for years."

"Nichole," Sonic said petulantly, "why're the rest of the words all scrambled?"

_"The file is encrypted, Sonic,"_ Nichole answered calmly. _"I have only been able to decrypt a few fragments, but it is clear that the project involves the Time Stones."_ At the last admission, Sally cringed.

"Not a chance," Sonic said defiantly. "The Time Stones are on the Little Planet, and Blimp-bot's got nothing left there. I made sure of that."

_"Robotnik's reports indicate that the Little Planet is now a SWATbot manufacturing base," _Nichole insisted.

"What?!" Sonic screamed. Sally bit her lip, but allowed Nichole to finish, which she did, in her usual detached, unemotional tone.

_"Robotnik's annexation of the Little Planet occurred eight months ago, as the result of a test of the Death Egg Station's main cannon. All formerly organic material on the surface is now part of a central, mechanized matrix that controls operations."_

"We found out a month ago," Rotor explained, "when Sally and I were in one of 'Botnik's data storage cores researching production orders for the SWATbot force in Robotropolis and trying to figure out the best way to sabotage the production lines. I saw that most of the units were manufactured at a factory called 'Orbit One,' and judging from the numbers produced there, it had to be big. The file on Orbit One was unclassified, so it didn't take Nichole long to find it."

Sonic glared angrily at Sally. "And when were you planning on telling me about this, Princess?"

"Excuse me," the Viceroy shouted over Sonic, "but we need to put this on hold and focus on what we're going to do about the captured Ancient Ones." As the room quieted down he went on, "and I for one am in agreement with Mister Sonic. We have to find where they're being held and free them, if not for their own safety then to prevent Robotnik from using their power."

The freedom Fighters glanced around at one another, each waiting for someone else to agree or disagree. Finally, it was Sally who made the decision. "The Viceroy's right. It's risky, but we have to try to free them, and quickly. Viceroy," she looked Drake in the eyes. "I'm sorry, but you'll be staying behind. We're used to sneaking around in Robotropolis, and you're not." Viceroy Drake sighed, but he nodded, apparently realizing Sally was absolutely right. "Alright then" she addressed the Freedom Fighters. "We'll leave at Dawn tomorrow for the Southwest sewer. Everyone get some rest, and be ready."

"What about me, Aunt Sally?" Tails asked. "Am I going too?"

Sally looked at Sonic, expecting him to speak up in favor of Tails' presence on the mission. Sonic, however, was still glaring across the table at Sally, apparently too angry to speak. She avoided his eyes, forcing herself to focus on the matter at hand. "As much as I hate to put you in danger, Tails, we made need air support on this one. But you're to stay out of sight, and stick like mega-muck to Sonic. Got it?"

"Got it, Aunt Sally." Tails beamed as he spoke. "I won't let you down."

Sally nodded, smiling at Tails' eager zeal in spite of the situation. "I know you won't. Okay, everyone, meeting adjourned." With that, the Viceroy and the Freedom Fighters began to file one by one out the door of the central cottage, leaving Sally alone in the open room as she closed Nichole back and put the device back into her boot. The last one out the door was Sonic, and Sally called out to him on his way out. "Sonic, wait. Please."

Sonic's hand was already on the door, but he froze, still not looking back at her. "Yeah?"

Sally stood up and walked around the conference table toward Sonic. "Sonic, look. I'm sorry. I really am. I know I should have told you about the Little Planet, but-"

"You're damn right you should've told me, Sal," Sonic snapped, still not turning to face her. "Do you have any idea what I went through to try to keep Robotnik from taking that place over?"

Sally nodded. "I do, Sonic. That's why I couldn't tell you. I knew it would crush you, and I couldn't stand to do that to you."

At that, Sonic spun away from the door to face Sally. "Oh, so you decided you'd just bide your time, huh? You'd just wait and let me find out the hard way when I went to Never Lake to…" he paused, realizing something. "That's why you didn't want me to go to Never Lake, isn't it? You know I go there every year to see the Little Planet when it comes close to Mobius, and you knew I'd find out."

Sally looked at her feet, and a tear rolled down the side of her face, landing between them. "Sonic, I know how much the Little Planet meant to you, and I know what you went through when Robotnik invaded it last year. How could I tell you that everything you did was for nothing? Do you think I could look you in the eye and tell you that?"

"You give people bad news all the time, Sal," Sonic said harshly. "Why didn't you have the guts this time?"

"Because I care about you, Sonic," Sally shouted, looking back at Sonic through eyes now swimming with tears. "Don't you understand that?! I've never had to deliver news that would hurt someone I cared about as much as you." For a moment Sally considered the idea that she was taking a risk being so open, but she dismissed the notion. "I care about you," she repeated softly.

Sonic stood there for several moments, too hurt by Sally's tears to look away from her, but too angry to say anything to console her. Finally, he placed a trembling hand on the door, pushed it open, and sped away into the village, leaving Sally to cry alone.

* * *

"I'm sorry to bother you, Doctor Robotnik," Snively read his report to the back of the Doctor's swiveling chair, "but the-" 

"_What _is it, Snively?" Robotnik bellowed, spinning his chair one hundred eighty degrees to face Snively. Snively gulped at the rebuke, as Doctor Robotnik expected he would. _Such a wonderfully predictable little man._

"I'm s-s-sorry, sir, but-"

"Yes, I believe you mentioned that, Snively," Robotnik interrupted impatiently. "Get to the point!"

"Th-th-the point, sir, is that," as Snively remembered the contents of his report his fear faded, replaced now by irritation as he cleared his throat. "_He's_ here."

"He? Aah," Robotnik pressed his fingertips together excitedly. "You mean… the _E.G.G. Carrier_'s commander."

"Yes, sir."

"Splendid, splendid," Robotnik replied, gleefully shifting his great girth from one side of his chair to the other. "Send him in."

"Right away, sir." Snively turned to walk away and- "Augh!"

_"I need no invitation but your summons, Lord Robotnik," _the blue-armored war droid spoke in a synthetic bass voice, seeming to take delight in its ability to frighten Snively by entering stealthily. The red lenses of its optical sensors glowed menacingly underneath the semi-transparent protective plating that housed them, deliberately designed to emulate what the eyes of Sonic, the Freedom Fighter, would look like if the rodent were roboticized. This was the _piece de resistance _of Dr. Robotnik's cybernetic infiltration units, code named Metal Sonic because of its physical resemblance to the Freedom Fighter for whom it was built as a match.

"So I see," Robotnik's voice betrayed a doting fondness for the droid. "Snively, you may leave now."

"Of course, _sir_." Snively gritted his teeth as he spoke, never taking his eyes off of Metal Sonic as he stalked out of the command room.

Robotnik chuckled to himself as the door closed behind Snively. Finally, he returned his attention to the war droid in front of him. "Report, Metal Sonic."

_"The assault on Station Square was a complete success, Lord Robotnik,"_ Metal Sonic's steely bass voice reverberated off of the sterile metal walls of the command chamber. _"Only scattered survivors are known to have escaped, and the roboticized captives will increase the Empire's labor pool by a full percentage point."_

"A positively glowing report, Commander," Robotnik praised the droid. "And what of your secondary objective?" In response, Metal Sonic turned on his metallic heel and made a quick motion with his head toward a pair of SWATbots standing at the door, their arms clasped behind their backs in a perfect 'Parade Rest' stance. At this visual cue, the SWATbots snapped to attention, turned in perfect unison and opened the doors. As the massive duranium doors slid open four more pairs of SWATbots entered, bringing with them two repulsorlift-aided transparisteel cylinders, both filled with a clear, bubbling liquid. Inside each of the cylinders was a being in suspended animation. They had the appearances of the Mobian subspecies of Foxes, a red-furred female and a blue-furred male. _Although if the report was true,_ Robotnik knew,_ they're something much more._ The foxes were young in appearance, perhaps in their mid teens, but more likely their early teens. "Commander," Robotnik's voice dripped with ecstatic anticipation at the sight of the two. "Is the intelligence correct? Are these Ancient Ones?"

_"There is insufficient field data for absolute confirmation,"_ Metal Sonic replied over his shoulder, his body still facing the door. _"But reports from advance units indicate they possess powers not unlike Chaos Control, without a Chaos Emerald present." _

"Splendid," Robotnik glowed. "Take them to the holding area. We'll return them to a more permanent location later. I have need of them." Metal Sonic bowed crisply and turned his head back toward the SWATbots and nodded once. With complete simultaneity, the droids snapped to attention, brought their five-fingered manipulator appendages to the rims of their optical circuits in salute for a moment, about-faced and left, save for the two SWATbots guarding the door. As they left, Metal Sonic about-faced as well, turning back toward Robotnik. _"Might I inquire, Milord, if there has been any activity out of Knothole in my absence?"_

Robotnik grinned, a grin which an observer with a soul would have found a disturbing mix of sadistic glee and paternal admiration. "Ah, Metal Sonic. There's no need for subtlety here. Ask what you really mean."

The war droid's fists clenched momentarily as the datum of Sonic entered his heuristic processor. This was a programming quirk developed through two years in which combat almost invariably followed any data stream involving the hedgehog, the computerized equivalent of a 'habit.' _"As you command, Milord. When do I get another shot at 'Priority One?'"_

The grin on Robotnik's face spread. "Very soon, my steel-hearted son. Very soon. For now, though, I want you to prepare the _E.G.G. Carrier_ and Task Force E.G.G. for one more mission."

_"Destination, Milord?"_

"Angel Island."

* * *

Tails walked with childlike steps through the dark woods as he approached Power Ring Lake, which was really less of a 'lake' and more a 'pond.' Sonic, standing on the banks and throwing rocks into the water, had not noticed him yet in the dim moonlight that filtered through the tree canopy. In fact, it had only been by following the sound of the rocks that Tails found Sonic.

"She should have _known_ better," Tails heard Sonic say, emphasizing it with another rock hurled into the pond. "Man, I can't be_lieve_ she did that!" Another rock flew, and this time Tails was able to locate the splash. A moment later, Tails located the source of the throw. Sonic, however, had seemingly run out of things to say. Rather than calming down, however, this fact seemed to anger him further, and he hurled the entire remainder of his handful of rocks out into the pond with an irritated shout. Tails ducked on reflex as the hail of rocks flew, raining down on the pond in a flurry of splashes.

"Sonic?" Tails called softly after he was sure there would be no more hastily aimed missiles.

"Tails? 'Zat you?"

Tails stepped out into a circle of moonlight, hands crossed guiltily behind his back, both his tails waving behind him.

Sonic sighed. "You oughtta be gettin' some shut-eye, big guy," he said automatically, failing to hide the fact that he only said it because he knew it was 'the responsible thing to say.' "We got a big day tomorrow, remember?"

"I tried," Tails said apologetically. "I couldn't."

Sonic shuffled uncomfortably. "Yeah, guess I can dig that. Couldn't either."

Tails nodded. "You're mad at Aunt Sally, aren't you?"

Sonic didn't answer. Instead, he began gathering another handful of rocks.

"Because she didn't tell you about the Little Planet?"

"I almost got killed at least fifty times runnin' 'Butt-nik outta there," Sonic shouted his response as the subject was brought up again, stopping his rock collecting long enough to whirl toward Tails. "And now, finding out it was all for nothing…" Rather than finishing, Sonic flung the small handful of remaining rocks into the pond with their fellows.

"You know she only hid it because she was trying not to hurt you," Tails offered.

"Yeah? Well she mondo-failed!" Sonic was screaming by this time. "And then all that time tryin' to keep me from going to check out Never Lake this year… I mean, what does she think? That she's gonna keep coming up with reasons for me not to go every year so she can keep me in the dark? This was seeeeeeriously not cool of her."

Tails waited until he was sure Sonic was finished before asking, "but how would you have felt if she did tell you, Sonic?" Sonic said nothing, so Tails went on. "You would've been mad that she was breaking the news to you. And what about if she'd just let you find out on your own?" Tails let that sink in before finishing. "It was a no-win situation, Sonic. She knew you were gonna be hurt, no matter what. So she did the only thing she knows how to do: she protected the people she cares about from what hurts them."

Sonic looked away, sulking in silence for a few moments in the wake of Tails' logic. "She shoulda known she couldn't 'protect' me from the truth forever," he feebly resisted Tails' argument.

"But for you, she was willing to try," Tails rebutted. "I know it was a bad move, and I'm not saying you shouldn't be a _little_ mad. But Aunt Sally does weird things sometimes when it comes to you. You know, like she doesn't think the same way about you that she does about everyone else."

A smile invaded Sonic's face, despite his valiant efforts to hold it off. "Guess she kinda does, doesn't she?"

Tails nodded. "Yep."

Sonic finally stopped resisting the smile on his face as it became a cocky smirk. "Wonder why she does that," he said with a knowing air in his voice. _Because I care about you, Sonic,_ the memory of Sally's words from earlier poked its head up in the back of his mind.

Tails rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. It's 'cause she's got the major league hots for you, Sonic. Sheesh, you grown-ups make everything SO much more complicated than it's gotta be."

At another time, Tails's use of the phrase 'grown-ups' to describe Sonic and Sally, both sixteen years of age, might have struck a remorseful cord in Sonic. Of course, he couldn't blame Tails for the error. The war had gone on for so long, and claimed so many lives, that Tails had rarely ever met a non-Human Mobian any older than the Freedom Fighters. As it was, though, in light of Tails' blunt honesty, Sonic could only laugh. When he finally stopped, he turned toward Tails. "Too true, too true. Of course, how could she help herself?"

"I'm sayin'," Tails echoed Sonic's cocky sentiments. "I mean, guys like us are every girl's dream."

Sonic grinned at Tails. "Y'know, little buddy, you're smart for your age."

Tails sighed. "Yeah, at least that's what everyone _says_."

The doubt in Tails's voice did not go unnoticed. "Whaddaya mean by that, big guy?" Sonic asked.

Now it was Tails who picked up a rock and threw it into the pond. "I mean everyone's so scared 'cause Robotnik captured these two 'Ancient Ones' or whatever, but I don't even know what an Ancient One is."

Sonic's smirk faded, and he joined Tails in emptying the banks of any remaining rocks. _Man, just when I thought I was through being mad, you have to go and bring them up. Way to change the subject, Tails. _"They're these mega-powerful beings that are supposed to be older than Mobius itself," he explained. "_People_ say they created the Chaos Emeralds," he used the inflection on the word 'people' that Mobians used to exclude Humans from falling into the category. "The Humans have all kinds of legends and stuff that say the Ancient Ones were the ones that brought them from their homeworld, wherever that was."

Tails bit his lip. "So they're bad guys then, 'cause they brought Robotnik and Snively."

"Well, this was way, waaaaaaaaay before 'Botnik and Snively," Sonic corrected. "The Humans say the Ancient Ones are gods or something."

Tails' ears perked up. "Gods? Really?"

"That's what Humans think," Sonic answered dourly.

"What about you?"

"I think if there were such things as gods, they'd've stopped Robotnik from takin' over. Hmm. Looks like that was my last rock."

"Here ya go," Tails handed Sonic a few of his own. "But, Rotor said he met these two, and they were just kids."

"Pretty much proves they ain't gods, doesn't it?" Before Tails could respond something at the bottom of the pond began to emit a golden glow. "Right on time," Sonic commented approvingly, dropping the rocks in his hand and watching the glow. Tails watched it as well, always eager for a chance to see the feature that gave Power Ring Lake its name. As he watched, the glow began to take on a circular shape, forming into a visible ring at the bottom of the pond. Then it started to rise, closer to the surface, and closer, until… "Here it comes," Sonic warned Tails as the synthetic gold ring, roughly a foot in diameter and an inch thick, flew discus-like from the water and toward the two Freedom Fighters. "Got it," Sonic announced triumphantly as he reached out and clutched the ring, quickly slipping it into his backpack, lest prolonged contact with him activate its power prematurely.

This was a Power Ring, an object that could increase Sonic's unnatural speed to even greater proportions. Sonic wasn't sure how the rings worked, partly because he wasn't sure how his own speed was possible. His uncle, Sir Charles of the Royal Mobitropolitan Science Corps ('Uncle Chuck' to Sonic), had once told him of a theory he had. "Your speed, I think," Uncle Chuck had said, "stems from Chaos Control. Not very many people are born with it, outside the Echidnas of the Knuckles Clan on Angel Island. If I'm right, this ring should make you even faster."

And, as Uncle Chuck theorized, the Rings worked. Sonic didn't really care how. Somehow, though, Uncle Chuck had been able to craft a machine, powered by geothermal vents at the bottom of the lake/pond, which manufactured the Rings at a rate of one every twenty-four hours, and propelled them to the surface. Unfortunately, one of the design characteristics of the Rings required that a living being make physical contact with them within seconds of leaving the water's surface or they would disintegrate. Once they came in contact with organic flesh, some hidden attribute of the Rings stabilized their molecular structure enough that they would keep for days before becoming inert and disintegrating. The danger with this was that more than momentary contact with the Ring surface cause the recalcitrant power, whatever power that was, to be spent in a few moments.

This Ring, however, had been safely collected, stabilized, and tucked away in Sonic's backpack for later use, likely on the mission the next day. _Actually, make that later today,_ Sonic mentally corrected himself after a glance at his wristwatch. "Well, Tails, it's about time for us to head off to the ol' huts for what's left of the night."

"Yeah, you're prob'ly right."

"Hey, Tails,"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. Y'know, for comin' out here and all."

"No prob, True-Blue."

* * *

Barely an hour after Sonic and Tails returned to their huts, another Freedom Fighter found herself drawn to the banks of Power Ring Lake. It was Sally, having stayed up most of the night going over the day's mission plan, searching for any small, potentially disastrous oversight. By this late hour, she'd given up on focusing on the mission. Her mind, after all, was occupied elsewhere. "I wish Dulcy were here," Sally thought out loud. "She'd know what to say." Somehow, it felt better to her to say things like this out loud than to keep them in. After having to withhold information for the sake of the mission, or the good of her people, or any number of other reasons all her life, saying things out loud was like a reprieve. When she did, she could let herself forget the burdens of command, even if only for a moment. She could forget about the constant weight of life and death decisions, decisions that might cost lives…

…just as they had cost Dulcy's life.

A member of the Dragon Race, a venerable race laying claim to the same ancestral homeworld as Humans and claiming to have been brought to Mobius at the same time by the Ancient Ones, Dulcy had been a late addition to the Freedom Fighters. Within weeks of the adolescent Dragon's accidental –and rather destructive- arrival in Knothole Village, Dulcy, Bunnie and Sally were inseparable. Every chance they got they would steal away and discuss 'girl talk,' reveling in those brief moments when they could still be teenagers, despite living in a world with little tolerance for such indulgences. More importantly though, Sally had come to rely on Dulcy's wisdom, which, in typical Dragon fashion, far exceeded her years.

Until eleven months before, when all that changed in a single hour. Sally, Dulcy and Rotor had been on a scout mission to Robotropolis when, by sheer accident, they uncovered information that made it clear that Robotnik had finally acquired a long-sought-after prize, the Chaos Emeralds. With these seven gems, law-of-physics-defying relics capable of producing literally infinite energy if properly harnessed, Robotnik would likely have become unstoppable. The news was of such import that the three Freedom Fighters abandoned their mission and beat a hasty retreat to Knothole. So hasty, in fact, that Sally decided they would forego stealth in favor of speed, a grave error in Robotropolis. Shortly before reaching the city wall, three companies of SWATbots ambushed them, and would have captured or killed all three if Dulcy had not engaged them directly. Even for three companies of SWATbots, an enraged Dragon required enough attention that Sally and Rotor were able to escape unharmed, but Dulcy had not been so lucky. Sally and Rotor had both witnessed the killing salvo, a direct head-shot volley from a repeating laser cannon. Sally took some solace from the knowledge that Dulcy at least had not been roboticized, but the fact remained that she was gone…

"You're gone, and it's because of my mistake," Sally cried as she spoke. "And just when I need you the most."

"Ah may not have the wisdom of a Dragon, Sally-girl," Bunnie interposed from behind Sally, "but ah'm here for ya too."

Sally didn't lift her head. It was no surprise to find Bunnie here at the pond with her. After all, a Rabbit's ears were good at detecting even the smallest noise. She'd probably overheard Sally skulking. "Yeah, Bunnie. You're here for me, until I screw something up and it hurts you too."

"Now what kind o' talk is that?" Bunnie asked, scolding and trying to reassure at the same time. "C'mon, Sally-girl, yore stronger than that."

Sally finally looked at Bunnie, letting her see the tear-streaks down her face. "But when did I stop being strong and start becoming callused?"

"Sally, yore not… I mean…" Bunnie shook her head. '"What brought this on all of a sudd'n?"

"Because for eleven years I've had to force-feed myself the same lines about 'the mission comes first' and 'sacrifices for the greater good,' and…" A core of pressurized emotions reached its critical point in Sally as the answer came bubbling up like magma from an eruption. "And I'm just sick of the things I do for the 'greater good' hurting the people I love!" She kicked fiercely at the bank, and Sonic and Tails' earlier collection of thrown rocks received a salvo of new recruits to their ranks. "I call myself protecting them, but that protection is turning into something worse than what I'm supposed to protect them from."

Bunnie took a few steps toward Sally, her heavy metallic feet scraping loudly against the rocks as she did. "This is about Sugah Hog, isn't it?"

Sally nodded. "Yeah, it is," she admitted, fully aware that Bunnie added the 'isn't it' solely to keep from sounding haughty. After all, Bunnie knew her too well to have to ask. "And he probably hates me right about now," Sally finished.

"He couldn't hate you if 'e tried, girl," Bunnie insisted. "He can't even stay mad at you."

"I'll bet he does this time." Sally wasn't budging.

"Sally," Bunnie spoke slowly and certainly. "If that boy were any sweeter on you ya could put 'im in a bottle and pour 'im on pancakes as syrup, and don't even act like you don't know it."

That prompted a smile from Sally, even in these surroundings. "Oh, please. Sonic just wants to get me under the sheets."

"No," Bunnie half-corrected. "Sonic doesn't _just_ want to get you under the sheets. But ah'll tell you one thing. There're some girls that if Sugah Hog wanted that from them, they'd give it to 'im without thinkin' twice."

"Right," Sally replied, smiling sarcastically. "Suuuure they would. I mean, would you?" Sally realized a moment too late the problem with what she'd asked. _Oooh, bad move: touchy subject._

"Couldn't even if I wanted to, could I?" Bunnie asked coolly after an awkward silence. This was one of the subjects that the two and Dulcy had discussed once or twice, but it was a subject that Bunnie always preferred to avoid. The roboticizer, after all, had taken her _from the waist down._ As such, there were some pleasures she would never be able to know.

"Bunnie, sorry. I… I didn't mean to…"

"It's alright," Bunnie dismissed the issue. "Ah guess it's a good sign that people forget about these every now and again." She knocked on her metallic legs with her one metallic arm at the word 'these.' "Y'know, it lets me know they still see me as me." She paused for a minute, smiling the way a young woman does when she has a 'secret,' and just has to share it with all of her friends. "Besides," she whispered conspiratorially. "Y'know how some guys are 'bout machines."

As Bunnie intended, the guilt vanished from Sally's face and she listened to Bunnie, looking for the hidden meaning in her words. "What do you mean by that?" Sally asked, beginning to join in Bunnie's air of girlish mischief.

"Take Rotor fer instance."

Sally stared at Bunnie, a shocked grin fixed on her face. "No," she said at length. "No. You mean… you and Rotor?" Bunnie gave no denials, and Sally's hand flew to her mouth to stifle a snicker as a new realization came to her.

"Now what's so funny 'bout that?" Bunnie demanded, hands on her hips.

"Then all that time you've been spending over at the garage…" Sally held up quote signs with her fingers. "_Maintenance_, huh?"

Bunnie's face went red. "Now it's not what you think."

Sally gave her a knowing grin.

"Okay," Bunnie amended her statement. "It's not _just_ what you think."

Still, Sally grinned.

"Okay, fine. It's what you think. There now, ya happy?" Bunnie's face wrinkled itself into the look of someone trying to hide a sheepish grin under an angry façade. "I come out here t' try'n cheer you up and I wind up spillin' all mah secrets. Mah stars, Sal."

"It's alright," Sally assured her. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Well, it better be," Bunnie answered, looking only a little bit less sheepish.

"But," Sally went on, shaking her head. "I don't understand. I mean, how do you two…"

"We don't," Bunnie admitted. "Not really, anyway. We just kinda have t'improvise. But never y'mind that, Sally-girl. There's some secrets ah can't go tellin' you, now can ah? Besides, we're getting' off-topic."

The grin faded from Sally's face with a sigh. "And that topic is me and Sonic, if there even is a 'me-and-Sonic' any more."

Bunnie rested her mechanical hand on Sally's shoulder consolingly. "He'll forgive you. He doesn't know how not to."

Sally smiled. "You think so?"

"Ah know so," Bunnie replied. "Now, you best be getting' off t'bed. You gotta be rested up fer t'morrow's mission."

"Right," Sally agreed, dark irony sneaking into her tone. "The mission comes first, after all. Right?"

Bunnie said nothing in response. Instead, she simply gave Sally her most reassuring smile. "G'night, Sally-girl."

"Good night, Bunnie," Sally said back, turning to walk toward her hut. "And thanks."

"Any time, Sally-girl. Any time."


	4. Chapter Two

Chapter Two: The Eggman Cometh

The Guardian of an island that drifted through the heavens stood on a frozen precipice, gazing south over his homeland from the glacial heights. This was his birthright: rule of the island of his ancestors, and the never-ending struggle to defend it. Far below, arrayed across the valley in their serene pseudo-beauty, lay the ruins of the once proud city of Marble Garden, the capital city of a once noble race, the Knuckles Clan of Echidnae. Once. The city had long since fallen before the siege of nature, and the ivy that choked the ruins was the wild's testament to its conquest of one more of the fortresses of those foolish enough to challenge its dominion. Above him on the mountain summit, but accessible only through the magma-choked tunnels of the lava reef at the base of the mountain, lay the Hidden Palace, keep of his forebears, the Guardians, of whom he was the last. From there he could have looked around to behold the Knuckles Clan's other cities around the island, and marvel at Nature's judgement upon each.

One, claimed by a groundquake, now lay underwater, with only a few isolated pockets preserved in dry caverns. In many cases, the arcane machines used to travel the city's once-great heights still functioned, and the water-slides used to efficiently transport goods from one part of the city to another could still be found. They could also, if one felt a thrillseeking inclination, be used to transport oneself to another destination, or to a watery grave if one were not careful.

Another, constructed in the desert wastes on the southwest corner of the island, still stood, but the sandstorms and quicksand that stretched on for miles around it made it nigh inaccessible, and the centuries of abandonment had taken their toll. It was now inhabited only by the wraiths of its long-dead citizenry, and any visitor paradoxically wise enough to traverse the sands and foolish enough to have any desire to do so would quickly discover that they had grown quite hostile to outsiders in their years of isolation. Had he the time for such poetic explorations, the last Guardian might have considered how very much alike he and those wraiths were. Alone on the island as far back as he could remember, he did not even know his name. If asked, he would simply refer back to the name of his ancestral clan, saying gruffly, "I am Knuckles."

But those cities were on the other side of the ice-capped peak, out of sight from his current perch. At another time he would have mourned the passing of his ancestral civilization, just as he had many times before. But this time was different. This time, his attention was diverted to a feature of the island that had not been there until a few months before: a stretch of concrete miles long and miles wide, covering much of what had once been a forest of mushrooms as high as the trees of the outside world. A stab of cold that was not from the frozen air pierced his heart as he looked upon that stretch of concrete, the mark of his near-ultimate failure in his eternal duty to protect the island from the world below.

It had been six months since that day, a day that began like most days before it… the day when two war machines came plummeting out of the sky and onto the island. The lesser of the two, which Knuckles had watched approach, came first, crashing into the jungles near the edge of the island. Had its course been half a mile to the East it would have missed the island and fallen into the sea far below. Unfortunately, it was not. More unfortunate, however, was what happened while Knuckles was on his way to investigate the machine. What began with a flash of light high overhead, bright enough to overshadow the midday sun, ended with the crash of a doomsday machine onto the island from orbit…

…And Hell followed. An invader came to the Island that day, seeking to claim the island's most sacred treasure, the Master Emerald. Knuckles had foreseen this long before it happened. What came as a surprise was the fact that there were _three_ outsiders to come to the island that day. One intending to claim the Emerald, and two dedicated to fighting him. But the former arrived first, and deception was a foe unfamiliar to Knuckles, having never dreamed of the concept that one person would deliberately tell another a thing which is false. The invader, who called himself 'Robotnik,' persuaded the Guardian that he was the benevolent ruler of the world below, and the two machines were dedicated to defending his realm against the machinations of a renegade and terrorist called 'Sonic,' who was behind their destruction. He claimed he had been on board the first of the two machines, the 'Wing Fortress,' on his way to the second machine, a space station called the 'Death Egg,' when he was ambushed by the very same Sonic, who destroyed the Wing Fortress and sabotaged the Death Egg. The clincher of the tale, however, had been his mention of Sonic using the power of the Chaos Emeralds.

_The servers are the seven chaos. The controller is the one who serves to unite the chaos._ So read the ancient scriptures of the Knuckles Clan. They spoke of the Master Emerald, whose power kept the island aloft, and the seven chaos emeralds. The seven had been missing from the island for centuries, and besides protecting the Controller from all harm, the Guardian bloodline was sworn to retrieve the seven one day and place them on the altar in the Hidden Palace where they belonged. So when a gold-bodied blur wielding the power of the seven chaos emeralds came to the island Knuckles asked no questions. He wrenched the emeralds from the grasp of the newcomer, convinced that he was doing a service to his ancestral cause.

What a fool he'd been.

Because while he was fighting Sonic, he was struggling against the only one who could come to his aid when Robotnik turned on him. And turn on him he did, because while Knuckles was occupied with Sonic and his cohort, a two-tailed fox called 'Tails,' Robotnik set about salvaging the wreck of his Wing Fortress into a Zeppelin, or 'Flying Battery Blimp.' Worse yet, he began to reconstruct the Death Egg, as well as a launch base from which it could be returned to orbit. That is, once Robotnik extracted its new power source, the Master Emerald, from the Hidden Palace. Meanwhile, Sonic and Knuckles raced to the Hidden Palace themselves, the former following Robotnik's trail, and the latter blissfully unaware of his ally's impending betrayal. Looking back, Knuckles counted it an instance of the most extreme good fortune that Robotnik chose the exact moment when he and Sonic battled in the Hidden Palace to make his own break-in and attempt to steal the Controller. Had he not been there, Robotnik would have gotten away with it.

_And had Sonic not been there, he still would have gotten away with it, and killed me in the process_, the Guardian thought grimly. Driven half-mad by Robotnik's betrayal, the Guardian helped Sonic and Tails board the Death Egg to battle Robotnik. He never believed Sonic would keep his hastily-made promise to return the Master Emerald once he recovered it, but if he made Robotnik pay for his betrayal, that would be enough. At least the deception that led to the last Guardian's failure would be avenged. Barely alive, still recovering from the injuries Robotnik had given him, Knuckles only been able to watch as the Death Egg lifted off, and pray that the one he'd meant to destroy so recently would be successful.

But Sonic _did_ return the Master Emerald, barely in time for Knuckles to use its empowering strength to drive the traitor Robotnik from the island, in the process crippling the so-called Metal Sonic, a war-droid made in Sonic's image. Knuckles still bore the scars from that final battle in the Sky Sanctuary that hovered above the island, just as the island bore the scars of Robotnik's treachery, in the form of the abandoned launch base that was such a cancerous presence upon the otherwise radiant wilderness of the island. But the Guardian's scars, even though they never faded, finally healed. The Island's wounds, on the other hand, were reopened scarcely a month prior, when Robotnik again invaded the island and raided the Hidden Palace. Only this time, the mad doctor had not come to steal the emerald, but to shatter it, releasing a creature called Chaos. In his arrogance, Robotnik actually believed he could control Chaos.

The Guardian smirked, a rare gesture for him. _Control Chaos… even the very phrase is ludicrous. _And Robotnik paid for his pride in the form of two more scuttled airships, the _E.G.G. Carrier_ and _E.G.G. Carrier 2_. Unlike the Wing Fortress before them, the doctor had been able to fully repair these, albeit at great cost in terms of time and resources. He was lucky, as Knuckles saw it. Far luckier than the denizens of the Human city of Station Square, upon whom Robotnik unleashed the monster before Sonic, once again wielding the power of the Chaos Emeralds, imprisoned him again in the Master Emerald (whose shards Knuckles had worked tirelessly to track down and reassemble the crystal). Since then, Robotnik had not returned to the Island.

_So why,_ Knuckles thought with a growl,_ has the launch base come alive again?_ Lifeless and derelict since the day of Robotnik's hasty retreat from the island, the concrete flight deck of the launch base was now crawling with what passed for life among the minions of Robotnik. Maintenance droids skittered about, and the few remaining security droids had not rested in their patrols for nearly a week. Worse yet, the droids all seemed to be working toward a goal, as though they were constructing something. Knuckles had rarely encountered robots, but from what he knew they rarely changed their course of action without orders from an outside source. And where Robotnik's robots were concerned, 'outside source' meant Robotnik, and that meant Robotnik had plans left for the island. The question was 'what plans?'

_No. It doesn't matter what his plans are,_ Knuckles corrected himself, running his paw along the white halo of fur around his neck and upper chest as he prepared to glide from his perch, flinging his body upon the winds through the energies produced by the Controller. _Because no matter what it is, my task is the same: to keep Robotnik and his taint off of the island. After all, this is _Angel_ Island, Doctor, and you don't have a halo!_

* * *

Morning.

Sally remembered how, in days barely remembered, her father would awaken her with the dawn, greeting her with that smile only a father knew how to give and the words, "good morning, sunbeam." Then he would scoop her up into a hug and she would sigh contentedly, knowing as any small girl did that nothing could hurt her as long as her daddy held her. Even at such a young age, Sally learned to treasure these moments. Each night she went to sleep as quickly as she could, eager for morning to arrive so she could share just one more of them with her father.

How different today was.

The mission, Sally recalled. The mission to Robotropolis to rescue two captured Ancient Ones. Without a trace of the morning preening ritual that was second nature to most of the fifteen-year-old girls in the universe, Sally swung her feet over the side of the bed and slipped first one, then the other into her blue leather boots, the right of which contained a handcrafted blue leather pouch which carried Nichole. After all, even in a society that saw little use for clothing, the Great Forest was no place to walk around barefoot. Nor was Robotropolis, especially if one's purpose in Robotropolis was to fight. And after all, what other purpose could an organic being possessed of any sanity possibly have in what Sonic and his following nicknamed "Ro-Town?"

After tightening the mid-calf straps of the boots, Sally walked across her one-room hut to the coat rack that held the only other article of clothing she owned, her "tactical" vest. It was, in actuality, little more than a forgotten piece from a Human formal suit for men (a tucksy-doe, she remembered hearing such a suit called), but the size and placement of its two pockets made it ideal for the carriage of such necessities as explosive charges or the occasional door-card pilfered off of a fallen SWATbot. The vest was also, in fact, very close to the same shade of blue as her leather boots, and for this, Sally was credited with being quite fashion-conscious. The fact of the matter was that the vest's color was a matter of coincidence and that it was chosen for its utilitarian value, but Sally let people think what they would. It was, in fact, quite a relief to be able to think of such luxuries as style or fashion once in a while. It was almost like having a normal teenage life, at least in those rare moments.

But this was not one of those moments.

"Boots? Check. Nichole? Check. Vest? Check. Hmm… what's missing?" Sally looked around her hut for any last-minute items that could be useful. She considered the bandoleer of grenades hung on the coat rack for a moment, but opted to go without the added encumbrance. On a second hunch, however, she took one of the grenades from its pouch and dropped it into the pocket on the right side of her vest. This made the vest hang quite noticeably to the right, but she paid no attention to the vest's appearance. _Shake a leg, girl,_ she told herself and walked out the door.

The Greater Sun, the blue one, was still shyly hidden behind the tree line, giving the village square the blue glow of near-night. The red Lesser Sun was eclipsed behind the blue sun during this, the third of Mobius's eight seasons. Sally allowed herself a moment to reflect on what poor fortune it was that such a critical mission would have to be undertaken during Blue Summer, when the days were shorter than any other season of the year.

Sonic and Tails were already present ("we're waaaaaitiiiing, Sal," Sonic greeted). The blue-ish reverse twilight made it seem that they were barely more than shadows, with features slowly materializing on them like photo-images developing in a darkroom. Bunnie was there also, but she stood in the center of the square, where what little light came through the canopy shown directly on her.

"Rise 'n' shine, sleepy-head," Bunnie greeted, her accent almost making 'head' come out 'hay-edd.'

"Yeah, Sal," Sonic chided, glancing at his watch. "We've been waitin' almost a minute. That's sixty whole seconds! C'mon, Sal."

"And they say chivalry is dead," Sally remarked sarcastically.

"Well, maybe chivalry should learn to pick up the pace a little," Sonic rebutted, looking quite pleased with himself for this response.

Sally sighed. "Whatever, Sonic. Whatever. Anyway," she gave this word the particular emphasis the team had come to recognize as a word for 'getting back to what's important.' "Is everyone ready?"

"I was born ready," Tails said excitedly, practically lifting off as he spoke.

"Ready to jet, pet," was Sonic's answer, prompting an incredibly satisfying look of irritation from Sally.

"You know ah'm ready," said Bunnie.

Sally nodded. "Okay then." With a glance at each of the other three, she entered the center of the clearing and extended her right hand in front of her, palm down. Bunnie came next, placing her right hand on top of Sally's. Sonic and Tails followed, until the four stood in a tight square, their right hands all joined in front of them. "Freedom Fighters," Sally began, "Ready?"

Before the Freedom Fighters could reply, a cry of "wait!" rent the piney, morning air of the forest village. With sighs of varying degrees of agitation, the Frredom Fighters turned toward the source of the cry. A young pink hedgehog-girl clad in a faded flannel nightshirt that came just above her knees was running toward the four from the still-open door of her nearby hut at such speed that her pink fuzzy slippers nearly slid off her feet with each stride. She carried in her hands a badly knitted red scarf whose ends trailed behind her as she ran. It was Amy Rose, one of Knothole's civilian population, and a long-time not-so-secret admirer of Sonic.

"Oh no," Sonic and Tails moaned in unison as Amy approached. Sonic held his hands out in a protective gesture, expecting the pink blur to bowl him over. Instead, she dashed right past him and flung her arms around Tails neck.

Tails uttered a noise that souned like "gwoof" as he and Amy tumbled to the dirt.

"Amy, dear," Sally said patiently, barely able to stifle a flurry of giggles at the confusion evident on Sonic's face as he watched the spectacle. "What is it?"

As Amy and Tails picked themselves up off the ground, Tails cast a positively pitiful gaze at Sonic, mouthing the words "help me" and pointing at Amy, whose back was now turned to him as she addressed Sally.

"Oh," Amy said, blushing. "Um, I'm sorry Sally. I didn't mean to interrupt. I mean, I know this is a big mission and everything." Here Amy paused and laughed nervously. Sally gave her a small, slightly reassuring smile and nodded, prompting her to go on. "It's just, well," she turned to Tails and held up the scarf. "I didn't want you to get cold in Robotropolis, so I made you a scarf. But I forgot to give it to you, so..." she hesitated, apparently not sure what to say.

Tails stared back in disbelief for a few moments before replying, "Amy, it's the middle of Blue Summer! How could I possibly get cold?" Amy merely stared back at him, her eyes positively liquid as she did. Tails resisted valiantly for one so young. But he was, after all, male, and in the end he succumbed to those soul-baring eyes. "Oh, alright," Tails sighed at length, allowing Amy to wrap the scarf around his neck.

When she was satisfied that the scarf was wrapped snugly around Tails neck (which was the point where Tails began to think she intended to strangle him), Amy stood back for a second, shuffling her feet awkwardly. "Well, there we go." She said at length.

"Tails," Sally said in her most maternal manner. "Would you like to say something?"

Tails cast one final look in Sonic's direction, pleading silently for help. The look on the older hedgehog's face, however, was clear. _Better you than me, big guy._ With a brief yet furious glance at Sally, Tails turned again toward Amy. "Thanks, Amy," he muttered miserably.

Amy beamed at these two barely audible words. "Oh, you're welcome, Milesy," she squeaked, encouraged by the fox's reaction. Then, she did something for which Tails was not at all prepared. She kissed him. Nor was it a kiss on the nose, like the motherly one's Sally had given him until recently. Rather, she flung both her arms around his now-bescarfed neck and pressed her lips against his, withdrawing them before Tails had time to react. "Well, I guess you guys have to get ready to go now. So, I'll leave you to, um, you know... to do what you do. Be careful, Milesy!" And with that, she turned and practically skipped back to her hut.

The look on Tails' face as the others turned to look at him was one of abject humiliation. "Milesy?" Sonic managed to ask between laughs.

"Mah stars, Tails," Bunnie teased. "Aren't you just the little charmer?"

"Becoming quite the ladies' man, I see." Sally grinned, unable to avoid getting in a little good-natured humor, even if it was at the young fox's mild expense. "Better be careful, Sonic. I think he's trying to steal your fan club away from you."

"Yeah? Well ya won't catch me complainin' one bit," was Sonic's reply.

There was mild laughter for another moment or so as Tails unwrapped the scarf from around his neck and tucked it into his backpack. "I feel your pain, big guy," Sonic said with a consoling pat on Tails' shoulder. "I really do, if that helps any."

"It doesn't."

"I know, big guy. I know." Then, the atmosphere was unanimously back-to-business as Sally once again extended her hand into the center of the four who each, in turn, did the same.

"Okay, everyone," Sally prompted again. "Ready?"

The four Freedom Fighters threw their joined hands into the air and let loose a shout of "Let's kick some Ro-butt-nik!" Years afterward, Tails would look back with exceeding fondness on this moment, gathered in a hidden village deep in the Great Forest in the non-light of an early morning in Blue Summer. He would continue to remember that morning long after the other three were dead. It was, after all, the last time the four of them would ever meet together in preparation for a raid on Robotropolis.

* * *

The man who had once been Julian Asimov Robotnik (named for his uncle, Ivo Julian Robotnik) stood over a computer display board deep within the bowels of the Robotropolis Command Center. His eyes scanned briefly across the maddeningly complex series of screens with their dauntingly chaotic density of information without even batting an eye. At this point the Tekbots working on the A.I. Project could finish without requiring extensive supervision. Besides, he had taken charge of enough projects of such magnitude as this that he was able to separate the important information from the unimportant at a glance, even when his mind was elsewhere.

And right now, Snively's mind was indeed elsewhere. Here was the Snively the world never saw, the soft underbelly of Lord Robotnik's Chancellor.

_A machine… an insufferable machine… a tool…_ he thought with acidic hate. In his mind's eye he could see the two red LED lights that marked the optical sensors of the object of his hate, and envisioned them laughing at him. _A tool, and nothing more… a tool I myself helped to craft, in toil and sweat_. That thought actually produced a tear, and he quickly wiped it away,yawning to mask the gesture as wiping sleep from his eyes. His uncle did not take kindly to displays of such 'weakness' as Human emotions, and such a lapse in judgement as crying, even for a moment, would earn a harsh beating if he were seen. Even worse than the pain of the blows he would suffer, however, would be the lecture to follow. 'You would do well, Snively, to emulate my true son.'

_His true son…_ Once the phrase entered Snively's mind unbidden, there was seemingly no driving it out. There, in all its gruesome glory, lay the naked truth of the matter. The self-roboticized monster down the hall was the closest thing to a father Snively had ever known, and that self-same father had forsaken him: forsaken him for the war droid Metal Sonic. _The tool he calls 'son,' while he won't even call me by name. The droid is 'son,' and I'm 'Snively.'_

In an uncharacteristic display of action, Snively's small fist came down on the display panel in a hammer-fisted blow that would have cracked the screen if sheer luck had not caused him to hit the metallic rim of the panel instead. His fist throbbed where it had impacted the durasteel, and without looking at it Snively felt sure the fist would be an ugly shade of purple in a few hours time if he did not apply a capillary regenerator to the bruise. _Let it swell, then. Will anyone care?_

"Fool!" The voice Snively feared most spoke from the doorway. "Fool! What do you hope to accomplish by destroying part of my Command Center?" Dr. Robotnik's normally cold voice carried an unusually wrathful and insulting tone today, and Snively made a mental note to avoid the "Good Doctor" whenever possible for a time. Robotnik never carried on in this vein for long without the coming of the one called Eggman, and such occasions had proven deadly before.

"I'm… eh, I'm sorry, D-d-doctor," Snively sniveled. "There was a, eh, a f-f-fly. Yes, a fly on the display monitor."

Doctor Robotnik (for Snively prayed to any gods that might have not yet forsaken Mobius that this was still Robotnik he spoke to and not his mad alterego) approached Snively. "A fly, Snively?" He asked in a tone of mild curiosity.

"Yes sir, a fly."

By this time the dictator stood directly beside Snively, staring down at the display boards from his intimidating height of two and a half meters. "How curious, then, that I do not see a fly, Snively."

_I don't like the direction this is taking._ "Oh? Well, I must have m-m-missed it then, sir. I'll do better next time, though."

Robotnik proceeded as though Snively had not spoken. "I see no fly, and as you're aware, my eyes see a great many things." He turned to fix Snively with the fiery glare of his glass-plated eyes. "A great… many… things, Snively."

"Indeed, sir." Snively stifled a gulp.

"And if I didn't know better, Snively, I'd think you were lying to me." Before Snively could offer a defense, Robotnik clutched the tiny man's collar and hoisted him into the air until their eyes were on the same level. When he next spoke, it was in a voice that sounded less like the calculating dictator of a global empire and more like the drunken leader of a bandit gang. "_AND I DO NOT TOLERATE LIARS! IS THAT CLEAR_!"

_The Eggman cometh_, Snively had time to think before he was flung across the room to land in a crumpled heap on the floor next to the transparent aluminum window.

"_SNIVELY! DON'T JUST LIE THERE! GET OVER HERE_!" Eggman bellowed, and Snively quickly came to his side. He did not groan, despite the fact that he felt certain his landing had broken his left shoulder. He did not speak, despite the protests he felt like uttering at this treatment, even from the hand of Robotnik. Were this Robotnik, he would likely have muttered an insult under his breath, something he knew he could rephrase if Robotnik overheard him. With the Eggman, though, any word spoken out of turn could have fearful consequences.

Dr. Eggman, which was what Robotnik's hidden personality called himself, was an unforeseen long-term side effect of Robotnik's self-roboticization. In the nanite-infusion process that was roboticization, the essential change made to the subject's brain was to render the conscious mind unable to act on its own impulses and make it dependent on instructions from an outside source: Robotnik. When Robotnik himself underwent this process (a desperate final gambit to save himself from the clutches of a terminal illness), he did not consider the inherent psychological consequences of making one's mind dependent on orders from an "outside source" which was none other than one's own self. The effect, after time, had been for the roboticizer-driven slave circuitry to form itself into a second personality. This second personality, though no less dangerous than Robotnik, was less capable in the arts of war and subterfuge, as was made evident by his dismal failure during the first assault on Station Square, when E.G.G Carrier 1 & 2 were both nearly destroyed. What he lacked in prowess, though, he almost made up for in sheer brutality. For his identity, this personality took on a name coined as an insult by the Freedom Fighters. Responding to his roboticizer-enforced taboo on claiming anything for himself, he claimed his few victories "in the name of the Eggman Empire," rather than in his own name. The Eggman was also quite obviously insane. For Snively though, this madness was not such cause for fear as was the fact that there seemed to be absolutely no pattern to when the dictator was Robotnik and when he was Eggman.

_What I know, unfortunately, is that this is indeed the Eggman_. "Yes, Milord?"

"_BEHOLD_!" The Eggman indicated a status screen among the myriad Snively had just been observing. "_THE POWER OUTPUT OF THE ANCIENT ONES IS OFF THE SCALES_!"

"Indeed, sir," Snively forced a tone of excited surprise into his voice. "More than enough energy to fuel the A.I. project. More than enough, sir!" _Now if you'll just get out of the way so I can finish my work, I can have the device ready for the Time Stones by the time-_

"Metal Sonic has more than proven his worth with their capture, don't you think?" This was no longer Eggman, but the true Robotnik.

Despite his relief at this, Snively bit down on a retort with such force he felt certain he'd added a bleeding tongue to his growing list of injuries. Isn't it enough that I have to contend with one monster without him reminding me of the other?

Robotnik, observing Snively's reaction to this glowing praise of his rival, crowed inwardly._ And now_, he thought,_ to twist the blade a little_. "It is indeed a shame that he won't be able to stay in Robotropolis to revel in his success for long before taking the E.G.G. Carrier to Angel Island for his next victory.

_And on that note, this is as good a time as any._ "It's funny you mention that, sir, because…" Snively paused, unable to meet Robotnik's withering, suspicious gaze. Finally, tugging at his collar as he spoke, he continued. "Well, with your permission, sir, I'd like to take command of E.G.G. Carrier 2 for the mission to Angel Island."

For an interminable few seconds, Robotnik said nothing. When he finally did, he spoke as though he had not heard Snively's petition. "Snively, prepare my regeneration pod for a sensory diagnostic."

_Oh, now what is that supposed to mean?_ "Sir?"

"With an emphasis on auditory circuitry, Snively," Robotnik added as an afterthought.

"Y-y-yes, sir. But-"

"And do you want to know _why_, Snively?"

_I'm not sure I do, but…_ "Will you enlighten me, sir?"

Robotnik crossed his hands behind his back and began to stroll about the room, leaving Snively rooted to the spot. "Because I am quite certain I just heard _you_" (the sneer in Robotnik's voice on this word was unmaskable) "ask to take command of my flagship's sister ship for a critical mission. So, of course, my auditory sensors must be malfunctioning, musn't they, Snively?"

_I've risked my neck this far, I might as well finish the job_. "Craving your indulgence, sir, I did request to assume command of the EC2 for the Angel island mission." Having spoken (and gulped), Snively tensed, waiting for the blow to fall.

"And why, Snively, should I allow such a waste of one of my finest vessels?"

Snively drew a deep breath as he prepared to make his pitch. "Sire, I've been instrumental in the A.I. Project since its inception almost a year ago. I feel that I should be there in person when the device itself is constructed and tested. After all, sir, who knows the nuances of the weapon better than I do?" _There. I've said it._

"Snively," Robotnik spoke with the nearest approximation to admiration Snively could remember hearing from him, "I believe you've finally grown a spine."

_Was that… a compliment!? The second in one day?_ "Thank you, sir." _But what is your answer?_

Robotnik placed his hands together in front of him, each finger tapping against the pad of its mate on the opposite hand as he calculated risks._ I can't allow this one to grow too bold. He might contrive to steal my throne from me. Yet I can't crush his resolve too completely either, lest my empire die with me for want of a suitable heir._

From deep within Robotnik's mechanized mind, the Eggman spoke._ DON'T TRUST THIS WORM! WHAT PROMPTS SUCH A SUDDEN INTEREST IN THE WEAPON? DO YOU THINK HE IS STILL CONCERNED WITH IMPRESSING YOU? HE PLOTS AGAINST US!_

_Against me, you mean_, Robotnik reminded his "other." _And yes, he may. And yet, he makes a valid point. Ah, Julian, it's a dangerous game you force me to play. I don't think I give you enough credit_. Finally, Robotnik turned toward Snively. "I will allow you," he paused, watching the anticipation build on Snively's face for a moment before reining it in, "to command Flying Battery as an escort vessel for the E.G.G. Carrier.

Snively almost choked on the thanks he was preparing to utter. "Flying Battery, sir?"

There was a note of the Eggman in Robotnik's voice as he replied, "is that a problem, Snively?"

_The war droid gets a beyond-state-of-the-art air juggernaut and I get a rocket-assisted zeppelin? No. where's the problem?_ "No, sir."

"Splendid," Robotnik placed dangerous emphasis on each syllable, making plain to Snively how easily this honor could be replaced with punishment if he did not show the proper appreciation for it. "After all, Flying Battery proved most effective in pacifying Angel Island during the reconstruction of the Death Egg."

_If it was so effective, why were you driven out, you overgrown sack of rust?_ "Of course, sir. She'll be put to good use, sir. I assure you."

"See that she is, Snively," Robotnik rumbled as he exited the room. "See that she is."


	5. Chapter Three

Chapter Three: The Ancient Ones

"_Keep moving,_" barked a SWATbot Corporal as he jabbed the muzzle of his laser rifle into the back of one of his hapless Human prisoners, their hands all bound with magna-cuffs as they were force-marched to a field roboticizer. "_Servitude is inevitable, Humans. Such is the fate of all who oppose Lord Robotnik_"

The Human muttered something under his breath in response. It wasn't clear to anyone present whether the SWATbot heard this response clearly or not, but the buzzing hiss that followed from the SWATbot's laser rifle was as clear as fine crystal, as was the gurgling scream the Human made as the beam burned a hole through the center of his upper chest. A few in the group turned in time to see the prisoner's corpse kicked to the side of the road. For their efforts, the SWATbots under the Corporal's command rewarded their prisoners by clouting them with the stocks of their laser rifles.

"_I said 'keep moving_,'" said the SWATbot Corporal again, his undulating, monophonic voice doing nothing to lessen the stress placed on these words. Slowly and ploddingly, the Humans continued on, resigned to accept the roboticizer as an alternative to a death like the one they'd just witnessed.

Neither the SWATbots nor their Human captives noticed the interloper watching this activity from the gutter of a dilapidated red brick building half a city block away. Had either noticed him, they would likely have paid him little attention. He was, after all, nothing more than a tiny gray bird: at least in appearance. _And frankly, I'd like to keep it that way if I can,_ he thought. _After all, even my kind aren't immune to the robotizer. Not in this form anyway. We saw that during the Perfect Chaos incident._ There'd been three of his kind in the city, all three disguised in his present form, differing only in the color of their plumage. The city's Viceroy knew of the other two, and he'd pledged his city's resources to their protection a decade prior. The one watching the interplay between the SWATbot conquerors and the subjugated Humans had been sent here in secret, in case the viceroy failed to uphold his vow. _Or, as it turned out, in case the resources he pledged weren't enough._

The three of them had been captured during Robotnik's first invasion of Station Square a few months prior and sent to the robotizer. Their fate there, had things gone according to Robotnik's plan, would have been to serve as living batteries for Robotnik's latest weapons, the so-called "E-Series." Fortunately, Robotnik had not known who and what he was dealing with. One of them, named Orana, had escaped and, with the help of a Mobian named Amy Rose, caused the destruction of the E-Series' prototype. The other, named Solyurus, had somehow been able to restore a degree of free will to the robot he powered (_E-102 Gamma,_ the interloper recalled) and destroyed the remainder of the E-series.

_Ending with E-101 Beta_, he moped. _That was the one I powered. It's a good thing Solyurus was stronger than I was, or we might still be in that predicament. Unfortunately, Robotnik learned from that failure what we really were, and the rest… _

_…is this._ The observer watched as the column of Human prisoners disappeared around a corner. He wanted to help them, but there was likely little he could do in his current form, and his orders from the oldest and wisest of his race had been quite clear on that point. _'Watch them, Isaac, and keep them safe. And yourself as well, lest you forget that. I don't know when I'll return, so I'm leaving you in charge. I know what a burden this is for one of your years, but such are our times. Never reveal yourself, Isaac. It can only lead to trouble. It is imperative that you keep it this way.'_

But things had changed now, hadn't they? After all, Orana and Solyurus had shed their disguises. Their unveiled presence in Robotnik's city made that clear. It seemed there was no other way. He would have to defy his orders from He-Of-The-Nine-Tails. _Forgive me, Elder,_ he thought briefly as he took wing. In a few moments he had achieved enough altitude to look down and see the SWATbot detail and their column of prisoners. At the end of this block their path would turn left, and another left a block later would lead down a six block street at the end of which sat a field roboticizer. _Well, they'll never get there,_ Isaac resolved as he dove toward a hastily-selected destination and willing himself into his nautral form, if the word "natural" could truly be applied to his race.

* * *

SWATbot Corporal 671-3597-248-AZ was a standard low-level command unit, equipped with a rudimentary heuristic processor that gave him marginal abilities to modify his own programming as new data was absorbed, the mechanical equivalent of the ability to learn. Because of this, he was dimly aware that the data provided by his optical circuits did not match any field data fed to him in preparation for his present assignment.

As his team rounded the corner that would have been the second to last turn before the field roboticizer station where his captives were to receive their new assignments as Workerbots, they encountered a gray-furred fox, an adolescent by appearance, standing in the middle of the road, arms crossed, staring back at them. Corporal 248-AZ ran a search of his internal hard drive for any information regarding Vulpine presence in Station Square and discovered that there were, by all reports, fewer than a thousand non-Humans living in the city, out of which none were known to have survived both the Perfect Chaos disaster and the Robotropolitan invasion. Marking this data for further analysis, he gave the signal for the six SWATbots under his command to halt, then raised his rifle to point at the fox. _"In the name of Lord Robotnik, you are commanded to surrender and accept roboticization,"_ he stated.

"Got to admit, you get to the point"_,_ the fox replied, chuckling. "But I'm afraid that won't be possible. And I'm afraid that in my own name _you_ are commanded to release your prisoners, lower your weapons, and accept being reduced to scrap."

Over the course of seventeen nanoseconds, Corporal 248-AZ processed this statement and determined that the subject had elected to be deactivated by force rather than accept his terms. This known, the preprogrammed response was for his team to open fire, and he prepared to give the order to do so. Before he got the chance, however, his frontal armor was coated in six kilograms of molten steel which, until a few moments prior, had been his rifle. Within the space of a second, the superheated metal had caused the melting of his optical circuits, his sub-nuclear fuel cell as well as both hydrogen backups, and portions of his CPU. Before he went off-line, SWATbot Corporal 671-3597-248-AZ had time to process a single signal, which was nothing more than a two-word message: _"uh-oh."_

* * *

After giving his reply to the SWATbot's ultimatum, Isaac quickly turned his attention to acting on his response. Reaching his perception out into the world around him, he found the ethereal lines that held the constructs together. Picking out the molecules of the steel that made up the SWATbot leader's rifle, he willed an abundance of thermal energy into them while simultaneously pushing the entire weapon back against the SWATbot who held it. The result was a liquid metal mass being flung back against an unprepared SWATbot. As this one staggered and fell, mostly melting with its weapon, Isaac thrust his right hand forward, physicalizing the telekinetic blow he willed upon the rest of the droids. Before their Corporal hit the ground, they were flung backwards with such force that their metallic bodies shattered against the concrete wall of a nearby police station. With a final, barely noticeable wave of his hand, Isaac disabled the magna cuffs that bound the Humans. After that, he paused for a breather.

It took the Humans several seconds to realize that their captors would no longer be a part of their lives. When they did, several males from among them set about gathering rifles from the fallen SWATbots, all the while urging the rest of their fellows to keep silent.

_Well, it's easy to spot the ones with combat training,_ Isaac mused as he doubled over, wheezing from the exertion of powers untapped in the better part of a decade. Confirming his suspicions about which of the captives had trained for warfare, one of the Humans, a lean-looking male sporting the beginnings of a beard and carrying a pirated SWATbot rifle at the ready, rushed toward him. "I don't know what you did, or how, but we're in your debt, mister."

Isaac gave this statement a dismissing wave and turned immediately to more important matters than the man's gratitude. Such gratitude would, after, all, be short-lived if they were unable to stay out of the hands of the next SWATbot patrol that happened along. When he regained enough of his wind to do so, he asked in short, panting phrases, "do you… have anywhere… you can go?"

As the other Humans began to gather around Isaac, the one who had spoken chewed his lower lip in thought for a moment, then said, "we've heard rumors that a few soldiers from G.U.N. have gotten together in a resistance cell, hiding somewhere in the sewers."

Isaac's brow furrowed. "_G.U.N_?" the word came out more a gasp then a word, but the human apparently caught enough of the inflection in Isaac's voice to realize it had been a question.

"Guardian Units of the Nation," the Human explained.

Isaac nodded. He'd quickly regained much of his wind, but he still spoke in choppy sentences to mask his labored breathing. "The military then… Good… Find them."

The Human nodded. "Yeah, we will. Good gods, I'll bet they'll love having someone like you around to-"

"No," Isaac stopped him, forcing his voice to be heard through sheer willpower. "I mean _you_ find them. Find them. Save as many as you can. Then get as far away from this city as you can."

Isaac watched as comprehension began to slowly manifest itself on the faces of the Humans. "You're not going with us?"

Isaac shook his head. "I have to get to Robotropolis."

"Robotropolis?!" The man with the beard and rifle realized only after he'd said this that he'd shouted, causing a moment in which no sound was heard except the charging of laser rifles as the entire assembly waited for a SWATbot patrol to descend on the source of the noise. Finally he spoke again, this time in a whisper, and with his eyes still darting at his surroundings. "Are you completely cracked, stranger?"

"Maybe I am," Isaac muttered ruefully. "But I've got two friends to rescue. Two friends your Viceroy sacrificed this city to protect. As for you, I say again: save who you can, before Robotnik roboticizes them, and get out of Station Square."

This time, Isaac turned away and was unable to watch the familiar transformation of the man's face as comprehension came over him. "You're one of the Ancient Ones, aren't you?" There was genuine awe in the man's voice.

_'Ancient Ones?' So they haven't outgrown archaic titles yet. I'll wager they still haven't outgrown thinking we're gods yet either. Well, if it's a god they're expecting..._ "I'm Isaac Eldritch of the Ketsunae Ancient Ones," he replied, turning to face them once more. "And in the name of Elder Merlin Prower of the Nine Tails, I bless you and bid you farewell." Following that there was a swell of light and Isaac was gone, leaving a few wisps of grey smoke where he had been.

* * *

"Well, here we are," Sonic whispered unnecessarily to Tails as the two of them, the advance scout party for the tiny squad from Knothole, peered over the top of a hill at the city walls of Robotropolis. "Ro-Town, hometown of Ro-butt-nik. Y'scared yet?" The last was emphasized by a grin in Tails' direction.

"Please," Tails rolled his eyes. "I've been here with you before, remember? When we were going after the Death Egg and I hijacked the _Tornado_ so we could chase the _Wing Fortress_?"

Sonic chuckled to himself_._ "Yeah, I guess you have. Still, stay ready. I've been here a half million times, but I still gotta be careful."

"I'll be as careful as you, True Blue."

_If Sal heard that…_ "Alright. Now the first thing we do is scope out the scene. Find out how many bots are on guard duty this time, what they're packin', what kind of backup they've got waiting, that kind of thing. The second…" he let Tails finish for him.

"Is we smash 'em all up!"

"Not yet, Tails," Sonic corrected, unable to hide a smile at the fox-cub's zeal. "First, we report back to Sal and Bunnie and let them know what we're lookin' at. _Then_ we head back-"

"And _then_ we smash 'em all up!"

Sonic patted Tails on the shoulder. "Most times, yeah. Every now and again, if it's real heavy, we get 'em to chase us into the city, and Sal and the others can pick off what's left at the wall. Once we're a little way into the city, then we make pencil sharpeners out of 'em. Cool with it, big guy?"

"Way past cool," Tails replied, holding up his hand with the palm forward.

Sonic gave Tails the "high-five" on cue, and returned his attention to the wall guard. "Okay. See that sewer entrance there, at the base of that guard tower?"

"Yeah."

"That's Sal and Bunnie's entrance."

"Cool. What about ours?"

"That's what I'm lookin' at. We've got… looks like two, no. Three bots in the guard tower, right? So what we gotta do…" Sonic cut himself off at an unusual sight atop the tower. A bird was flying out from the city, passing directly over the guards below unseen on its way into the forest.

"What is it, Sonic?"

"A bird," Sonic answered. "Flyin' out of the city."

"So?"

"A bird that hasn't gone through the robotizer can only mean two things. Either Butt-nik's gotten sloppy, which ain't likely, or-"

"One of uncle Chuck's carrier pigeons." There was awe in Tails' whispered voice. "Where's it headed?"

"Not 'where?' 'Who?' Those pigeons are trained to find specific people. It's probably headed to Sal."

Tails paused. "What should we do?"

Sonic glanced back into the Great Forest, his eyes fixed on the point where the pigeon disappeared into the treeline. "Uncle Chuck doesn't send those pigeons out if he can help it. Too risky. Especially in daylight."

"Then it must be big."

Sonic nodded his agreement. "Yeah. Think it's time we juice back to the rendezvous point."

"Right behind ya."

* * *

The laboratory where Robotnik held his two most important captives was under heavier guard than any other room in the city, including the Master Control room of the city's Command Center. A full squad of fifteen SWATbots, heavily armed, stood guard with orders to summarily "dismantle" any approaching organism or robot that was not on a carefully screened list. Robotnik himself was, of course, allowed entrance. Metal Sonic, having been the one to oversee their capture in the first place, was also admitted. Snively was absent from the list, and Robotnik took particular delight in making sure Snively knew this was not an oversight. Beyond that, only a specially modified corps of Tekbots were granted access.

_And this Tekbot _used_ to be one of them one of them,_ thought the occupant of Tekbot TK-421-97A's now-derelict hull. The occupant was Sir Charles Hedgehog, the only Mobian known to ever reverse the roboticization process and become free again…

…at least mentally. His body, on the other hand, remained as mechanical as the day he stepped out of the Roboticizer to unwillingly participate in his new overlord's coup of Mobitropolis. At one time, this fact had served Charles' nephew Sonic (to say nothing of his band of Freedom Fighters) greatly. A spy, he'd been, going about Robotropolis unquestioned and delivering priceless secrets to the Freedom Fighters of Knothole.

That all changed the day he was discovered.

Sir Charles only narrowly escaped disassembly that day. Since then, with his own image engrained into the processor of every War Droid in the Empire as "_spy: priority two,_" he'd taken to sneaking about in Robotropolis' back alleys, sabotaging SWATbots and Tekbots and wearing their remains as camouflage when he needed to move freely (much the way he now wore TK-421-97A). And for "Uncle Chuck," the disguise had finally paid off.

Because, besides confirming the rumors that Robotnik had indeed captured a pair of Ketsunae, the "Ancient Ones," Charles now knew just what Robotnik was planning to do with such power. As Sally had indicated in a riskily-sent message by carrier pigeon, their purpose was indeed tied to the rumored A.I. Project. But the real pay-off was that by getting into this room, Charles had learned _exactly what the A.I. Project was_.

_I have to let Sonic and the others know about this one, pronto._ With a glance around the room (one that he hoped didn't _look_ like a glance around the room), Charles assured himself that Robotnik was indeed absent from the current assembly. Metal Sonic, on the other hand, was very much there. Charles had had few dealings with the mechanized duplicate of his nephew, so he didn't quite know if the war-droid would notice one Tekbot's unscheduled exit. After a moment of weighing his options, he decided it was a risk he had to take, and turned to make his way out the door.

Metal Sonic never once glanced in his direction.

_Seems Robotnik went as far as to program him with some of Sonic's personality, including the short attention span_, Charles mused, stifling a chuckle at a sudden mental image of the most feared war-droid in Robotropolis tapping his titanium foot and whining "_I'm waaaaaitiiiing."_ As he reached the doorway with that image in his mind, Tekbot TK-42-Chuck extended his right "arm," which for a Tekbot meant a one-directional, three pronged appendage that rotated only at the joint analogous to the shoulder of a Humanoid. Then, with an awkwardness he'd never learned how to avoid when dealing with such clumsily designed units, he aimed his Tekbot shell's three fingers at the green button marked "open." Before he was able to manipulate the ill-designed appendage into place, however, the door opened of its own volition.

And there, on the other side of the doorway, stood Dr. Robotnik himself.

Charles' first instinct was to hide, but a split second's consideration told him that would give him away. In another split second, Charles realized he'd let out a sound equivalent to a gasp at the sight of the dictator, which he could only hope had gone unnoticed within the shell of the Tekbot.

"_DUMMIES, DUMMIES, DUMMIES, DUMMIES_!" Robotnik bellowed, the unmistakable tones of the Eggman reverberating off the thick walls of the wide lab as he reached down to swat Charles's Tekbot out of the way. _"OUT OF MY WAY, AND MIND WHERE YOU WALK!_"

With a silent sigh of thanks, Charles moved the Tekbot out of swatting reach of the massive metal arm and stood aside as Robotnik, affording himself a menacing glare at the offending Tekbot, lumbered into the lab. Once the fat dictator had passed, Charles exited through the still-open door and made his way casually down the hall to the elevator that would take him to the ground level. "Saved by the Eggman," Charles muttered to himself in the otherwise unoccupied elevator. "If I had a five-penny for every time I'd heard that I'd have about… five pennies." The door opened at the ground level, and as a squad of SWATbots entered the elevator, Charles calmly exited, passing them right by without arousing the slightest suspicion.

The trip to the now abandoned "Scrap Brain Quarter," where Charles had fashioned a makeshift headquarters in an underground maintenance tunnel with a few weapons and traps, the detritus of the city's junkyard, and some obsolete snooping equipment pilfered out of the SWATbot reserve supplies (which were, quite thankfully, rarely heavily guarded and even more rarely inventoried), went without further incident. What few SWATbot patrols Charles did encounter paid him as little attention as had the ones in the elevator.

Once there, he shed his Tekbot disguise, found a pen and a scrap of paper, scribbled a hasty note, and picked out a bird from a cage containing three carrier pigeons. After attaching the message to the tube tied to the bird's leg he returned to the surface with the bird, scanned the area quickly to make sure he would not be seen releasing it, and sent it on its way with the command "find Sally." That highly trained bird, he knew, would find Sally, even if she wasn't in Knothole. She'd get the message he'd sent.

_Sally,  
__Meet at usual spot. Found A.I. Project. It's "Angel Island," not "Artificial Intelligence." Two Ancient Ones to power it. Pieces on E.G.G. Carrier, leaving in less than two days for Island (I'll try to warn Knuckles). It's a space-time wormhole generator. More when you arrive.  
-__Charles_


	6. Chapter Four

Chapter Four: The A.I. Project

Sonic and Tails encountered an out-of-breath Sally and Bunnie long before reaching the rendezvous point. "Guys, we've got a problem," she wheezed. "Sir Charles sent a carrier pigeon-"

"Yeah, we saw it. What's it say?" Sonic cut her off. Sally handed him the note, which Sonic read hastily. After reading it, he handed it back to her, confusion evident on his face. "So what's this about Butt-nik generatin' the space and the time to crawl in a wormhole?"

Sally sighed. "No, Sonic. Not 'wormhole' like a hole worms live in. 'Wormhole' like a portal; a gateway;"

Sonic merely scratched his head, but Tails' ears perked up. "You mean Robotnik's experimenting with Wormholes?"

Nodding, Sally handed Tails the note. When the young fox looked up from it, Sally could see from his crestfallen features that he, at least, understood the significance.

"The thing nobody seems to be harpin' on," Bunnie interceded, "is this whole 'Angel Island' part. Ah mean, if Ol' Blubberbolts is goin' back there t'test this little ol' wormhole thing, it's prob'ly got somethin' t'do with the Chaos Emeralds."

"I don't get it," Sonic spoke up.

"Somehow, Sonic, that doesn't surprise me," Sally held up a hand to stop Sonic's torrent of questions. "Let's just get to the usual meeting place, A.S.A.P."

Slowly, a grin formed on Sonic's face. "A.S.A.P?"

"Yes, Sonic," Sally sighed, fully aware of where this was leading. "And you know what that means."

"You got it, Sal. Everyone, grab on," Sonic said excitedly as he withdrew the Power Ring stored in his backpack. As the ring started to glow in his hand, Tails took Sonic's other hand, Sally put her arms around Sonic's shoulders, and Bunnie clutched Sonic's backpack in her mechanical hand. "Everyone on board?" Sonic asked once. "Cool, 'cause I feel the need for speed."

The glow from the ring began to intensify as Sonic started to run. Before he'd gone five yards its power kicked in, and his already preternatural speed increased exponentially, leaving a flaming trail through the underbrush as he carried the Freedom Fighters in his wake. Their trail took them around the outside of Robotnik's city to a clearing half a mile outside the south city wall. As soon as he stopped, the ring's glow diminished. Sonic examined the ring once and murmured, "Cool. Enough juice for one more. Everyone okay?"

"Suh-WEET!" Tails cheered.

"If'n you say so, sugah-Tails," Bunnie replied as she pressed both hands to the side of her head in an attempt to shake off a headache.

"I'm alive," Sally said flatly as she let go of Sonic. "Let's leave it at that."

Sonic looked back at Sally, concern darkening his features. "Are ya sure, Sal?"

_What kind of question is that? _"Of course I'm sure. Why?"

Sonic gasped, a gasp that Sally did not take as sincere for one minute. "Because… omigosh. Sal, your eyes are glazing over." He pressed a hand to her forehead. "And, and you've got a fever! And… and you're turnin' pale!"

Sally sighed. "I am not, Sonic."

"Yes you are. Oh, man, we're losin' her! I better give her mouth-to-mouth!" Having said this he took Sally brusquely in his arms and, before she could object, met her lips with a passionate kiss.

"Aw, man. Get a room," Tails sneered.

Bunnie grinned and let the two go on for a few seconds, silently noting that a few months prior Tails' comment would have been more along the lines of 'Ew, mondo-gross!' After a moment, however, she decided Sonic and Sally had had enough fun. "Come awn, you two. Save it fer after the mission."

When Sonic finally let go of Sally, she quickly turned away to hide the giddy grin spreading across her blushing face. "I should slap you into next Tuesday, Sonic," she said, hoping she sounded more sincere about it than she knew she looked.

"Yeah, y'should. But you won't," Sonic replied cockily, and then it was back to business. "So you two wait here. Tails 'n' I'll scope out the scene, same as before."

"No time," Sally insisted. "We'll go with you."

"But Sal, what about the bots guardin' the place?"

"We'll just have to wing it, I guess," Sally said with a sigh. "Let's go. Sir Charles is probably waiting."

* * *

A beep signaled the command center's intercom was in-use, and Snively's voice followed. "Doctor Robotnik, contact the Master Control Center please. Doctor Robotnik, contact Master Control." Another beep signaled this was the end of the message.

Dr. Robotnik was still in the A.I. Project lab when he heard the page. "This had better be important," he growled as he walked away from the twin tubes where the captive Ancient Ones hung in suspended animation and crossed the lab to a communications console. Metal Sonic, bored with lab monitoring and seeking any available distraction, followed close behind. He did not speak, but from the sounds his titanium feet made against the steel floor, he knew Robotnik heard him following, and took the dictator's lack of objection as approval.

The communications console across the lab was equipped with a wide, deep gray metal chair patterned loosely after Robotnik's "throne" in the Master Control Center. Unlike his seat in Master Control, however, this console featured no status display screens, and no computer interface from which coded messages could be dispatched to the city's SWATbot legions. There was a single screen in front of the chair, with a hidden speaker and microphone: little more than a video communications station with two buttons. One marked "on," and the other marked "off." As he lowered himself into the chair, causing the metal to strain beneath his weight, Robotnik pressed the button marked "on." Instantly, Snively's face appeared on the screen.

"Master Control, Commander Julian speak-"

"What is it, Snively?" Robotnik interrupted curtly. _Commander Julian indeed. Be glad you had the good sense not to identify yourself by last name, Snively. I would have had you garroted for using my name._

"I'm s-sorry to bother you, Doctor Robotnik," Snively droned, drawing out the word 'bother' in his usual nasal manner Robotnik found nearly intolerable, "but I thought you should know that spy station seventeen has detected something unusual near section Seven-Echo-Seven."

Robotnik waited for the rest of the report. "Well?"

"Well, sir, it appears that at time index zero-five-three-two, a sonic boom occurred just outside the city." _There_, Snively read the look on Robotnik's face. _That got his attention_.

"A sonic boom, Snively?"

"Yes sir. At ground level."

Robotnik's hand flew to the arm of his chair, reflexively reaching for control panels that weren't on this chair. "Damn," he hissed when he realized this was not his command chair. _It seems I'll have to rely on Snively until I get to Master Control. Damn that hedgehog!_ "Snively, double the perimeter guards. Put all four SWAT legions on red alert status, and deploy all surveillance orbs!"

Snively made no response. He seemed to be focusing on a status display screen next to the communications screen. Robotnik also noticed beads of perspiration forming on the small man's forehead.

"Snively!"

"Eh, y-yes, sir. Already done, sir."

Robotnik narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Snively. _What are you not telling me, you devious little man? _"Snively, prepare Master Control for my arrival." As Snively responded, Robotnik pressed the "off" button with such force that an 'X'-shaped crack appeared in it, and lifted himself from the chair. "Metal Sonic, you're with me. The A.I. Project will be fine for now."

"_Yes, Lord Robotnik,"_ Robotnik thought he noticed a hint of anticipation in Metal Sonic's response as the war-droid fell into step behind him.

_THERE! SEE? I WARNED YOU! HE PLOTS AGAINST US!_ The Eggman asserted himself in Robotnik's processor.

_Do shutup, old fool,_ Robotnik lashed out at his "other." _I haven't the time for you right now._

* * *

The wet, black orb of a hedgehog nose appeared around the corner of a guard tower wall, atop which was an ill-maintained sign reading "Gate 7." A moment later, the rest of Sonic's head appeared, along with one hand. After looking up and down the duracrete street for several seconds to assure himself it was deserted, Sonic waved one hand toward the treeline. At that signal, Sally and Bunnie dashed from their hiding place in the trees, keeping their heads low to avoid detection, and pressed themselves against the wall next to Sonic. Once there, Bunnie gave another wave to the treeline and Tails took to the air, landing on the guard tower between two now-defunct SWATbots. Smoke still poured from the holes in their chests, each of which had been made by the other's laser rifle in their attempts to keep a bead on a target moving as quickly as Sonic. Their two counterparts on the ground were even worse for the wear.

"Man," Sonic commented suspiciously, withdrawing his head back behind the tower. "Not a bot in sight. Not even a spy-eye." He used the slang term he and Tails had agreed upon for Robotropolis' stealthy surveillance orbs, security droids that were essentially mobile hovering cameras, with limited artificial intelligence and a built-in direct feed to the city's Command Center when they detected any organic being's in their field of vision.

"This is too quiet," Sally agreed with Sonic's implied statement. "Four guards at the gate, no surveillance orbs, not even a Tekbot."

"Maybe they're all tied up with this A.I. Project Wormhole thing-a-ma-hopper," Bunnie offered.

"It's possible," Sally partly agreed, a note of skepticism still detectable in her voice.

"Nuh-uh," sonic shook his head. "No matter how big this A.I. thing is, this ain't like Ro-Butt-Nik. There should be 'snotbots' crawlin' all over the city at a time like this."

"Whaddaya mean 'a time like this?'" Bunnie asked, unable to hide her irritation.

Rather than answering, Sonic motioned for the two girls to come and peek around the corner. As they did, Sonic pointed toward the inside of the city, his finger pointed at a skyward angle, directing their attention to the upper stories of the Command Center. There, in the polluted air above the city, three dark, hulking shapes loomed over the egg-shaped mass that was the Command Center. Two of them, long and sleek in design with arrowhead-shaped noses, hovered parallel to each other. The third, less graceful than those two, had the appearance of a titanic blimp, below and around which were fastened the weapon and cargo modules that had once been part of Robotnik's _Wing Fortress_. Neither of the two had ever seen these, but they recognized them from Sonic and Tails' descriptions: _E.G.G. Carrier 1 & 2_, and the _Flying Battery_ Blimp. This was Task Force E.G.G.

"Well, Hell," Bunnie whispered, pronouncing the words so they rhymed with 'whale' and 'hail.' "Looks lahk the gang's all here."

"Yeah," Sally nodded. "What would you say the crew on those things is?"

"When ya figure in SWATbots and the badniks both," Sonic thought out loud, "I'd say about two thousand each for the big ones. For the blimp, I figure about another seven hundred, not counting around five hundred Workerbots and Tekbots each. You know, for the bridge and the engine rooms."

Sally let out a whistle. "So that's over four thousand extra security bots that could be roaming around the city right now."

"Yep," Sonic said with a nod.

"So where are they?"

"As Sonic and Sally pondered this, Bunnie cocked her ear toward the tower, listening to a sound only her longer ears could detect. "Hey, guys," she said after a moment. "Sugah-fox on th' tower says there's a SWATbot comin' up the next block."

Immediately, the three Freedom Fighters on the ground pressed themselves back into the wall's shadow to hide. Once they were as safely out-of-sight as any place in Robotropolis allowed them to be, Sonic whispered to Bunnie. "_A_ SWATbot, as in one?"

"That's what he says, Sugah-hog."

"Probably Uncle Chuck," Sonic said with a grin.

"Still," Sally put a hand on Sonic's arm, "make sure first."

"Got it," Sonic said, ducking lower and picking up a palm-sized chunk of duracrete and glancing around the corner. "I see 'im. He's comin' up the road now. Got his little flashlight finger sweepin' too." Once the SWATbot was half a block away, Sonic cocked his arm back and picked out an overturned garbage can across the street. He took aim, and threw the chunk into the open top of the can. There was a resounding clatter loud enough that Sally and Bunnie cringed as the chunk bounced around inside the can before coming to rest.

The SWATbot froze, turning his light immediately toward the source of the noise before quickening his pace to investigate. When he was ten meters from the can the SWATbot stopped, swiveling his domed head from side to side slowly to scan the area. _"Eggman: priority one,"_ he said in a SWATbot's usual monotone.

At that signal, Sally breathed a sigh of relief and Sonic grinned. "Right here, Uncle Chuck," Sonic said, emerging a single step from the shadow against the wall.

"_Thank Goodness."_ The voice was no longer a SWATbot's monotone, but the familiar voice of Sir Charles Hedgehog. The roboticization process made his voice sound as if it were being transmitted by radio, but it was still "Uncle Chuck." _"Let's get to the hideout so I can get rid of this thing,"_ he said as he waved one of his SWATbot arms at the rest of his SWATbot body. Tails, watching this spectacle, could not help but laugh. He'd met Uncle Chuck before, but never in disguise, and even though the guard tower was too high for him to hear the whispered conversation below, the appearance of a SWATbot standing in the middle of a Robotropolis street and chatting with three Freedom Fighters was an amusing sight indeed. More amusing, however, was when the SWATbot turned his head toward Tails and waved at him, then motioned for him to come down. Still giggling, Tails coiled up his tails and flew down to join the unlikely assemblage.

He had no idea that the moment he took flight he was being watched by more than one set of eyes, and both sets of eyes that watched this two-tailed flying fox watched with supreme interest.

* * *

"_Report_, Snively!" Robotnik barked as he barged through the doors of Master Control with Metal Sonic close behind.

"We have disturbances scattered sporadically throughout the city, sir," Snively whined, cringing at what he worried was a hint of Eggman in the doctor's voice, "but still no sign of the hedgehog." As he gave this report, Snively cringed. _There wasn't any need for him to know of that! Now I'll have no choice but to explain. Think, Julian!_

Robotnik glowered as he took his seat in his familiar swiveling command chair. "What kind of disturbances, Snively?"

"W-w-well, sir, we've lost contact with sections six through ten of Central, and I'm getting reports of SWATbot losses: a much higher rate than usual. Also, sir, the Old Metropolis Quarter has been forced to cease production on assembly lines one oh eight through two sixteen due to unexplainable atmospheric phenomenon. I've had to reroute security there to compensate."

Robotnik let out a disgusted growl. "What kind of atmospheric phenomenon?"

"To put it simply, sir, excessive smoke in the air, source unknown."

Robotnik steepled his fingers in front of him. "Snively, does this sound like any attack you remember the Freedom Fighters ever mounting before?"

"No, sir. It really doesn't."

Silence. Then, "and what of the sonic boom you told me about?"

"I've dispatched an entire wing of Stealthbots to those coordinates, sir, with orders to sweep everything in a seven mile radius with napalm and laser fire. Also-" Snively was interrupted by a signal from one of the surveillance orb relays. Hurrying to his station, Snively glanced at the video feed from an orb patrolling above the Scrap Brain Quarter and gasped. "Sir!" he shouted. "T-t-the main vid-window!" Robotnik and Metal Sonic both turned their attention to the large vid-window at the front center of Master Control in time to watch the video-feed from the surveillance orb begin to come through.

There, on the screen, appeared four Freedom Fighters, Sonic included, walking through the uninhabited streets right alongside a SWATbot. _The hedgehog! With the fox and the princess, to say nothing of Ms. Rabbot. And I'd wager that's good Sir Charles inside that SWATbot disguise._

"_Milord_…" There was a pleading quality in Metal Sonic's voice. It didn't last long, however, because his plea was answered before it was spoken.

"Go!" Robotnik shouted to the robotic doppelganger.

"_Gone!_" was Metal Sonic's only reply, putting aside the usual '_as you command, Milord_,' as he speedily left the room via an airlock specifically made for his use. This airlock opened to a ledge outside the one hundred seventh floor room, and once he was outside on a ledge, there was a brief sound like jets powering up followed by the thunder of a sonic boom. After that, all was silent. As Metal Sonic left, Robotnik pressed his finger to a button on the left arm of his chair. "All units," he said in a voice just short of a shout. "Hedgehog sighted in Scrap Brain Quarter near gate seven. Intercept and engage."

Meanwhile, Robotnik took no notice of Snively issuing a series of his own orders via coded commands. _Fortunate timing, hedgehog. Thanks to you, the 'Great Round One' has no idea there's an Ancient One running free in his city._

_And make no mistake, dear uncle. I intend to capture this one myself. After that, you and I shall have a long talk about how _my_ empire is to be run from now on!_

* * *

"_Well_," Charles said with a glance at his SWATbot suit, "_I guess this is where I get rid of this thing. Wonderful for disguise, these SWATbot hulls, but damned hard to move around in._ _So pardon me while I get undressed in the street._" He chuckled slightly at his own humor.

"Won't catch us complainin' sugah," Bunnie jibed, earning Sally's elbow in her unguarded ribs. "What? It was a joke!"

"This is _Sir _Charles, Bunnie," Sally admonished, emphasizing the honorative.

"_It's okay, Your Highness," _Charles came to Bunnie's aid_. "At my age, you kind of appreciate it, even if it is a joke_." As he said this, Charles raised the SWATbot's arms to its head, providing the Freedom Fighters with an amusing image of a SWATbot decapitating itself. As he placed the nearly empty SWATbot head aside, Charles' own aged, mustached head emerged from the opening between the robotic hull's shoulders, giving the Freedom Fighters occasion to chuckle once again. "_And you can all laugh, but this isn't as easy as it looks_." As if to emphasize this point, Charles sat down, still wearing the SWATbot, and began to remove its legs using its own arms, laying them aside next to the head. His own mechanical feet barely protruded from the hip sockets of the towering hulk when he was finished. After that, he climbed out through the neck and began to detach the arms by hand. After another moment's thought, he elected to simply leave it be. "_Ah,I don't need to carry it. I'll get another. Besides, what's one more busted SWATbot lying around Robotropolis, hm? Well, shall we get a move on?_"

"Uncle Chuck," Tails got straight to the point as they began to move, addressing Charles the same way Sonic did, "You said the A.I. Project had something to do with space-time wormholes?"

"_That's right, Tails_," Charles agreed. _"And I think I have an idea where and when he's aiming for."_

"So what's the scoop, Unc?" Sonic questioned, his eyes still scanning the street for the all-too-notably-absent SWATbot patrols.

Charles met Sonic's question with one of his own. "_How much do you four know about the history of Human presence on Mobius?_"

"Off the top of my head, nothing," Sally confessed, drawing Nichole from her boot-holster. "But I can find out, faster than Sonic can wolf down a chili dog with extra relish."

"No way, Jose," Sonic said defiantly. "Not faster than-"

"_Alright, alright_," Charles interrupted. "_Put her away, Sally. There's no time. Suffice it to say that the first recorded Human presence on Mobius only goes back about eleven hundred years. Even Humans agree on that_."

This jogged Sally's memory. "Right. The theory is that some alien intelligence transplanted them here from their homeworld, and Humans say that was the Ancient Ones."

"_Right_," Charles agreed with a nod. "_Their legends say they lived in a city called Camelot, which was transplanted here by the Ancient Ones because it was too dangerous on their homeworld of Urth."_

Sonic put the pieces together immediately. "You think 'Botnik's homesick for Camelot and Urth?"

"_It sounds strange to me too, Sonic," _Charles admitted._ "But I hacked into some of Robotnik's most sensitive files, and they all indicate the A.I. Project is aimed for Urth, eleven hundred years ago."_

"What ah steel don't understand," Bunnie added her concern to the conversation, "is what's all this got t'do with Angel Island?"

Charles shrugged as he answered. _"Well, as near as I can tell, because Robotnik is the same greedy son-of-a-bitch we've always known him to be, and he just wants to take the Chaos Emeralds with him. But he's not sure he can get them back from Angel Island yet, so he's just planning to take the island with him. That way he gets the whole kit 'n' caboodle: Chaos Emeralds, Super Emeralds, Master Emerald, all right there with him on Urth. I guess he thinks once he gets there he'll be able to find a way to get past Knuckles."_

"But that doesn't make any sense," Tails protested. "I mean, if he's got the Time Stones-"

"_He does_," Charles assured him somberly. "_He's had them since he test-fired Death Egg Station's wide-field roboticizer cannon on the Little Planet_."

"Right," Tails moved on quickly, noting the tense glance that passed between Sonic and Sally. The wound, it seemed, was healed, but the scar remained. "So he can travel through time. Okay, fine. But how does he plan to target Urth? I mean, we don't even know what star that planet orbited."

"_Glad you reminded me, Tails_," Charles said, snapping his fingers. "_Everyone, listen, 'cause this is big._" When all four pairs of eyes were turned toward him, Charles continued. "_Okay. Ready? Alright then. Robotnik has concluded that the Human homeworld, Urth, is the third planet orbiting Chae-Dan_."

Bunnie and Sally both gasped, and Tails wrinkled his nose in confusion. Sonic, however, seemed nonplussed. "Humans are from Chae-Dan, eh? So Ol' Lard Drive really did come from Hell. Sounds about right."

"_Not Hell. Just the third planet orbiting it_," Charles commented.

"Umm, excuse me. The fox is lost. Somebody talk to the fox here." This was Tails.

"Tails," Sally explained, "remember when you were little, and I took you out to Never Lake to teach you about the constellations?"

"Yeah," Tails snorted. "Mega-boring."

Sally ignored Tails' opinionated dose of pre-adolescent angst. "And do you remember what the only constellation is that's in the sky seven out of eight seasons in both hemispheres?"

Tails suppressed a shudder. "Chaos," he answered. "The dragon."

Sally nodded. "Well, Chae-Dan is the yellow star that forms Chaos's mouth, and most of the old religions believed that star was where Hell was."

Slowly, understanding came over Tails. "And Robotnik thinks the Human homeworld orbited _that_?"

"That's affirmative, big guy," Sonic said, patting Tails on the shoulder. "Well, I think it's safe to say 'Butt-nik's finally flipped his copper top for good. What about you guys?"

"Fer real," Bunnie seconded this assessment.

"Well, this is all moot," Sally spoke up, "because Robotnik's counting on two Ancient Ones to power this thing, and we're about to set them loose. Right, everyone?"

"Right!" Everyone agreed in unison.

Bunnie, meanwhile, perked her ears up, alerted by a distant sound she could not yet identify. Only Sonic noticed her distraction, and as the sound grew loud enough for him to perceive it, he understood it for what it was immediately.

"Alright," Sally nodded. "Now the first thing we all need to do is-"

"Cover!" Sonic shouted, and everyone threw themselves behind whatever cover they could find immediately. Sonic, meanwhile, made a split second dash up the side of a nearby building, kicking from a third-story window ledge to land crouched back on the ground. While he was in the air, and no sooner than the others had found something to hide behind, there was a flash of blue as something screeched down the street, coming to an on-the-dime stop mere meters from where they'd all been standing. As he landed amid the haze of dust and paper thrown into the air in the wake of the sprinting blaze, Sonic stared at the back of the intruder. He would have known its identity even without seeing it. Only one construct in Robotropolis was able to move with that speed. "Metal," he greeted in a mockery of pleased surprise. "Long time no see."

"_Yes_. _Too long, 'priority-one_,'" Metal Sonic sneered as he slowly turned to face his rival.

The two combatants stared each other down for a moment, savoring the mounting tension in the air. The city of Robotropolis was a nation unto itself, and the road stretched unbroken for miles in either direction without leaving the city. In light of this, both combatants knew exactly where this was headed.

It was Sonic who finally broke the silence. "Let's see. First there was the Speedway on the Little Planet, and then there was the Sky Sanctuary over Angel Island, and now you want to get dusted right here in Ro-Town, eh? Well, the hedgehog is eager to please."

"_Eager to die is more like it."_ As Metal Sonic said this he felt sure that if he had salivary glands he would have spat. His hands clenched into fists, and the air behind him took on a yellow glow as his microthruster jets began to charge in preparation for pursuit of Sonic.

Sonic thought briefly about the other four rebels hidden behind a culvert at the edge of the street. _The mission,_ he chided himself. _I don't have time for fun and games._ But the facts were clear enough. With the possible exception of Tails, who'd faced Metal Sonic with Sonic before, none of the others had a chance of survival against this droid. The only way for the mission to succeed was to draw him as far away from them as possible and hope they could complete it while he kept Metal occupied. At this realization, the knowledge that his needs in the situation and his wants lined up perfectly, Sonic laughed. "Alright then. How 'bout it, Metal? Blue Blaze versus Blue Steel, round three? Catch ya on the flipside, slow-mo!"

In a flash, Sonic was gone, and Metal Sonic was after him a moment later.


	7. chapter Five

Chapter Five: Blue Blaze and Blue Steel

Sally watched from the culvert in which she had taken cover as Sonic and his mechanized doppleganger vanished into the smoggy distance of Robotropolis' labyrinth of streets until she felt it was safe to poke her head out and assess the situation. Sonic, for the moment, was no longer a factor in the mission, and something about the city's unexplained emptiness still didn't sit right in Sally's perception. "Damn," she muttered before addressing the other Freedom Fighters. "Well guys, it looks like we're on our own for now. Stick close together. Bunnie, you take point."

"You got it, Sally-girl."

"What about me, Aunt Sally?" Tails' voice came from closer than Sally had been expecting, causing her to jump.

"You stick to the high-road, Tails. You're the eyes," she said, forcing herself to hide the fact that she'd nearly jumped out of her boots. "But not so high you can be seen."

A frown wrinkled the corners of Tails' mouth at this reminder. "I haven't forgotten how to sneak, Sally," he chided softly, deliberately dropping the 'Aunt' as he coiled his tails and took flight.

_Of course he hasn't,_ Sally reminded herself._ You've got to stop sheltering him, Princess. He's not a child anymore._ She started to try and retrace her verbal steps, her lips almost forming the words 'I know, but if anything happened to you,' but thought better of it. If Tails was to serve as a commissioned member of the Freedom Fighters, she was going to have to treat him as one, regardless of her own worries. "Alright," she looked around her, refocusing her thoughts. "Sir Charles?"

_"Right here, Highness,"_ the free Workerbot answered from inside the tipped over garbage can Sonic had earlier used to signal him. _"But I'm going to have to get back undercover soon. My joints are too old for covert ops, mechanized or not."_

Sally nodded. "Right, right. Don't put yourself in more danger than necessary. We need you too badly." _That's what it always comes down to, isn't it? We don't have time to have concern for him just because he's a friend. We just can't afford to lose our spy. This war has made everyone into just another asset._ "Before you go, is there anything else useful that you can tell us?"

Sir Charles shrugged. "_What worries me is what I can't tell you, like 'where's the SWAT force?'"_

_You read my mind, Old Knight._ "Well, we'll just have to figure that one out for ourselves I guess. Okay Freedom Fighters, let's move."

But no one did move. Instead they found themselves transfixed by a distant sound. It was the sound of a battle: The muffled thud of distant explosions, coupled with the rhythmic 'zewp-zewp-zewp' of repeating laser fire, and it was drawing closer.

"Oh, mah stars," Bunnie spoke first. "Y'don't think that's comin' from sugah-hog's direction, do you?"

Sally felt certain it did, but there was no time to dwell on that. "Sonic can handle himself," she assured them, more for her own benefit than theirs. "For now, though, we need to get to the Command Center and free those two Ancient Ones. Let's go."

* * *

_If I had any hair left, I would be pulling it out right now,_ Snively lamented as his fingers did their increasingly frantic dance over the keys of his control panel. _Damn you, rodent! Why, of all times, did you have to appear now? _Metal Sonic could keep the hedgehog occupied, and with a bit of luck, the video uplink from Metal Sonic's optical and auditory sensors would provide Robotnik with enough to focus on that watching the chase would keep him from bothering Snively…

…for a while.

But sooner or later, either Metal Sonic or Robotnik would notice that the chase was strictly a one-on-one engagement, with no reinforcements of any kind coming to the war droid commander's aid, and then there would be questions about the reasons for this.

_The reason, Devil's Egg, is because I have every battle-ready unit in the city focused on section two-seven-bravo trying to subdue an Ancient One that apparently came to rescue his friends. And trying to keep that situation under control while simultaneously preventing any surveillance orbs from going near the battle so you don't become aware of it is difficult enough without you being around. But now I have to worry that your wind-up hedgehog and his playmate will wander to close to the battle as well! If there are any gods left that aren't loose in the city, may they help me now._

"Snively," Robotnik interrupted Snively's worrisome odyssey. "As I watch this chase unfold, something occurs to me."

_Oh please, don't let him say what I think he's about to say. _"And w-w-what would that be, sir?"

"Observe the viewer, Snively, and tell me what you see?"

Convinced that Robotnik had finally made the discovery Snively feared, Snively obediently turned to face the viewer, his countenance that of a man who gambled with death and was now accepting he had lost the toss. _Perhaps if I play dumb…_ "And, what should I be looking for, sir?"

Snively could feel Robotnik's eyes boring into his head as the dictator pressed on, "more importantly, tell me what you do _not_ see."

_Farewell, world. I can't truthfully say I'll miss you._ "I really don't know, sir. P-p-perhaps you'd be so kind as to-"

"_Where_ are the rest of the Freedom Fighters, Snively?!" Robotnik thundered, his patience with his major-domo's density finally exhausted.

_Sweet Providence, I might be able to salvage this._ "B-b-but sir, the hedgehog's method is almost always to separate from the others and _–Ulp_!" He was cut short as Robotnik's hand closed around his neck, lifting him off his feet.

"I know the hedgehog's M.O. all too well, Snively," Robotnik hissed breathily as he brought Snively's eyes up to within inches of his own, letting his oily breath bear down on the smaller man's prodigious nose. "Which makes my question worthy of repeating: _Where_… _Are_… _the_ _Other_… _Freedom Fighters_!?" As he asked this, he released his grip on Snively's neck and dropped him to the floor.

For a time, Snively only sat where he had fallen coughing, hoisting himself up to his knees with one hand while he rubbed his neck with the other. "W-w-well, sir," he finally stammered, "I really don't know that either. But I'll find out." _Merciful gods, he actually hasn't noticed the absence of Metal Sonic's reinforcements yet._

"You do that, Snively," Robotnik said, his voice returning to its normal tone as he returned to his chair. "And while you're at it, find out why none of the city's security units are assisting Metal Sonic."

_This is what I get for speaking of the gods, isn't it? Maybe a piece of the truth can help me save my neck…_ as the phrase crossed his mind, Snively realized he was still rubbing the red marks left on his neck by Robotnik's grip. _Literally_. "Well, sir, to be honest," he ignored Robotnik's murmur of 'which will indeed be something new,' "I have them focused on… a more immediate threat."

The red lights behind Robotnik's eyes illuminated as he narrowed their lenses at Snively. "What kind of more immediate threat, Snively."

"You see, sir-"

"Be direct, Snively, because your pathetic life may well depend on your response."

_Indeed._ With a sigh, Snively turned to his console and began to reroute video feeds from the battle in sector two-seven-bravo to the main viewer. "Observe, sir."

* * *

Isaac was losing.

And as he watched company after company of SWATbots pour into the alley where he'd been cornered, he knew it. "Can't keep this up much longer," he panted as his magic ripped through another rank of SWATbots, causing less than half the devastation of his previous assaults. Even as several of the droids fell in shattered heaps on the ground, more came forward to replace them. The beams from their lasers spiderwebbed across the alley, glancing off of Isaac's body as they struck a protective casing of Ketsunae magic, but that too was weakening. With his back to the sheer, durasteel wall of an abandoned industrial plant, similar walls on both sides, and a seemingly endless legion of SWATbots in front of him, escape, it seemed was out of the question, and fighting was proving equally fruitless.

Had he been in better condition, rested and uninjured, he could have _Port_ed himself beyond the range of their weapons, or covered the city in a fog that would have made travel impossible, even for their electronic eyes, or simply reduced half of them to scrap with a dismissive wave of his hand. But he was not in better condition. And besides, he was out of practice. And for all that, he was now paying dearly.

_The only thing I've got going for me is that this alley's so narrow they can't get more than a four or five man front. Which means if I can just take down four or five of them, oh, say about six and a half million times, I'll be fine._ _There's got to be another way. There has to. I'm an Ancient One, dammit! _With that reminder to himself, Isaac poured his rage into another blast of his magic, flinging his arm in a wide arc as a physical manifestation of the blow he willed upon the robots within his line of sight.

And nothing happened.

_Oh, now this might be classified a bad thing._

Again, Isaac tried, and this time, something did happen. He fainted. He was unconscious for mere moments before coming to, but that was enough time for the SWATbot legions to break upon him like a river bursting through a dam. When he opened his eyes, he stared down the emitter tube of a laser rifle, and the eyes of SWATbots seemed a sky filled with red stars, saturating his vision with crimson light as their beams reflected off the glossy black armor of their bearers.

_"Resistance is pointless, Ketsuna,"_ said the SWATbot who held his laser rifle to Isaac's head. _"Lord Robotnik awaits."_

"I'll bet he does," Isaac growled, marshalling his remaining strength for a desperate flare of magic. As the SWATbot computed likely responses to Isaac's statement, Isaac swung his arm in another wide sweeping motion. As he did so, the SWATbot who had spoken, along with the two nearest him, were flung into the air in pieces. Isaac allowed himself not a moment's celebration, having seen the hopelessness of his situation. He knew that was his last shot, and it had been little more than an act of defiance. _Orana, Solyurus, I'll see you soon enough. I'm sorry, Elder. I tried._ Beaten, exhausted, and barely able to hold his eyes open, Isaac closed them and lay back, waiting to be taken prisoner by the SWATbots.

Ere long, he became aware that he had been waiting for quite some time. _What are they waiting for? Maybe they think I'm playing dead. If that's true, then I might-_ That thought remained unfinished in Isaac's mind, interrupted as he noticed a faint sound: a piercing whine, coupled with the low-pitched _fwoosh_ of erupting flames. Isaac searched his memories for anything that might produce that sound, and came up with nothing. The whine, he noted, was not unlike the approach of a jet engine, but he wondered what could be causing the other sound.

As the sounds grew louder, and the SWATbots began ignoring him and hurrying out of the alley, Isaac realized that, for good or ill, he would soon find out. _At least the SWATbots consider it "ill," so that might make it "good" for me._ He chuckled at the realization. _I think the phrase for this is "saved by the bell,"_ he mused. _The only question is, while those SWATbots are focusing on the approaching whatever-the-hell-it-is, can I even stand up?_

And so he tried.

And failed.

The distant sounds were growing louder, and at this point Isaac realized that, however impossible it seemed, they were coming from ground level. _A jet? At ground level? That doesn't make any sense._ There was, however, no time to wonder about that. With an effort that he would have normally associated with trying to hoist a continent onto one's shoulders, Isaac rolled himself over onto his stomach and, push-up like, hoisted himself up on his arms. He afforded himself a quick glance over his shoulder to assure himself that the SWATbots were indeed ignoring him, and found them assembled outside the alleyway in the street. They were taking defensive positions, readying their rifles and aiming them in the direction whence came the sound (which, by Isaac's best guess, would be upon them in seconds). _That's settled then. Now get up!_ Isaac scolded himself for the momentary distraction and, searching within himself for any reserves of strength not exhausted in his battle with the SWATbot legions, pressed his hands against the wall beside him for support as he urged his battered body to its feet. As soon as he was convinced that his head was indeed above his feet where it belonged, he raised his eyes and faced the wall in front of him.

That was when the world began to spin.

Through sheer force of will, Isaac held himself up, supported by the wall, for the moments required to regain his equilibrium. Finally, giving his head a vision-clearing shake, he took his hand away from the wall and attempted to stand unsupported. It was barely half a second before he discovered that would not work, and leaned against the wall once more. "Okay," he whispered between panting breaths, thinking perhaps by hearing his own thoughts they would somehow become clearer to him. "What now?"

"_Target in visual range,_" droned a SWATbot Lieutenant. _"Take aim. Once the Commander breaks away, open fire."_

_Interesting,_ Isaac thought wordlessly. _Then there are two of the whatever-they-are's making that noise, and one of them's one of Robotnik's commanders. The only problem is the other's about to walk into the biggest ambush since the Badgers marching on Mercia. Unless…_ Isaac bared his vicious incisors in a grin sadistic enough to make Robotnik proud as a plan formed in his mind. _Well, SWATbots, maybe next time you won't abandon your previous objective so quickly._

* * *

Robotnik watched the viewer, and what he saw did not please him. Not a bit. "Snively," he rasped as the battle between an army of SWATbots and a solitary fox (and not even a fully grown one, by the look) dragged on. "How long has this creature been in my city without my knowledge?"

As Snively answered, his hand moved to the collar of his tunic, and unconscious gesture of panic Robotnik had learned to recognize. "S-s-several hours, sir."

_No, I'm not pleased at all._ "Which means, that Metal Sonic's would-be reinforcements have been occupied with the capture of a Ketsuna since before I dispatched him… nay, before the hedgehog even entered my city, and you didn't think this worthy of being brought to my attention?!" The second half of this accusation built continuously in volume until his voice was a barely articulate roar.

Snively shuddered, considering his response carefully. Robotnik was dangerous enough in this frame of mind, but conversations rarely continued in this tone and timbre for long without the coming of the Eggman, and Snively had no illusions about his survival prospects if the doctor's "darker side" were to emerge right now. Calmly, with what he hoped was just the right amount of awkwardness to be believable, he answered. "I intended its capture to be a surprise for you, sir."

A fractional degree of Robotnik's calm returned, enough that his response was clearly understood. "Snively, I don't often delve into the linguistic quagmire of the ignorant masses, but I can think of only one word to accurately describe what you just said. And do you know what that word is, Snively?"

"I… I don't, sir."

"That word, Snively, is bullshit."

Snively gulped. _That _has_ to be the Eggman rearing his head. Oh, this isn't good. _"B-b-but sir-"

_"DON'T 'BUT SIR' ME, YOU SIMPERING LAPDOG!_"

Somewhere between 'simpering' and 'lapdog,' Snively realized that the "Good Doctor" had murder on his mind. _I have to get out of this room, and quickly._ Pressing himself against the control console to put as much distance as possible between himself and his uncle, Snively's eyes darted toward the door. _Fifteen meters at a straight line,_ he estimated. _And I'd have to go almost in arm's length if I went straight. Not good odds. Still, I have to chance it._ Without any thought but fear for his own survival, Snively abandoned his post and bolted for the door. His path angled slightly outward from where Robotnik sat, but Robotnik did not remain in his seat. As Snively dashed past him, the back of Robotnik's titanium-armored right arm connected between Snively's shoulder blades with a powerful swing that sent the tiny man sprawling forward with his own momentum. A cracking sound rent the air as Snively's nose impacted the floor, and Snively tasted something like salted copper as blood from his now-broken nose mingled with the sweat that had been deluging off of his forehead and dripped over his lips. Ignoring the pain and the taste, and not spending a single instant on a look back, Snively regained his feet and resumed his dash for the door, shouting a frantic "get out of my way" to the SWATbot guards. Snively's left shoulder banged into one of the too-slow-moving doors as he passed between them, but Snively paid no attention to this pain either as he continued his run down the hall and out of sight, screaming as he fled.

The doors slid closed behind Snively, stifling the screams of his flight, but Robotnik did not waste his time pursuing. He would deal with his nephew later, when he thought himself coherent enough to remember how difficult the little man would be to replace if he killed him. Besides, there were more important matters now, like the hedgehog and the… _oh, now what have we here?_

A flickering warning light on Snively's console caught Robotnik's eye, and he moved closer to the panel to investigate. It was a proximity alert. Metal Sonic and his quarry, it seemed, were on a direct heading for the massed force in section two-seven-bravo. _Now this is a complication for which I have little time._ Quickly scanning the various video displays and status readouts arrayed around the crescent-shaped stretch of Snively's station, Robotnik weighed options. The Ketsuna, it seemed, was faltering, and would soon succumb, no matter what. A third downed Ancient One was simply too tempting of a prize, and with a twinge of regret at the missed chance to capture his nemesis, Robotnik prepared to give the orders for the SWATbots to disregard the hedgehog's approach and take the Ketsuna into custody.

"_WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"_ The Eggman came forward, assuming control of Robotnik's voice and speaking audibly._ "THERE WILL BE TIME TO CAPTURE THAT ONE LATER. TAKE THE HEDGEHOG WHILE YOU CAN!"_

_"Yes"_ Robotnik responded to himself, still in his own voice_. "But I can't underestimate the threat posed by a Ketsuna. If he's held off such a force as this for this long, I have no intention of leaving him unguarded."_

_"BUT THIS IS THE HEDGEHOG! SONIC! AND HE'S WITHIN MY GRASP! HE CANNOT GO FREE! IN THE NAME OF THE EGGMAN EMPIRE, I WON'T ALLOW IT!"_

"_I _am_ the Empire, old fool. And there's no time for this. Now-"_

But Robotnik did not finish that statement. Had Snively been present, he would have recognized the Eggman's twitching movements in Robotnik's eyes as he picked up the mouthpiece through which he relayed orders directly to the auditory sensors of the SWATbots, keyed in the code for all units within the city limits, and spoke.

"_ATTENTION ALL SWATBOTS, THIS IS DOCTOR ROBOTNIK: THE GREATEST SCIENTIFFIC GENIUS IN THE WORLD! THE HEDGEHOG IS APPROACHING YOUR POSTION. FORGET THAT FOX AND ENGAGE! ENGAGE_!"

* * *

"What's the matter, tin man," Sonic prodded his metallic pursuer as he blazed through the streets of the city. "losin' steam?"

_"The only thing I'm losing is patience with your idiotic commentary,"_ Metal Sonic muttered. He didn't bother to shout. At the speeds they were moving, by the time the shout reached the hedgehog in front of him, he would no longer be there to hear it. He himself only heard Sonic by virtue of being behind him, and running directly into the sound waves from his target's voice.

As the chase turned a corner and led down a long, straight street, Metal Sonic adjusted his speed to catch up. He could, in fact, move at speeds that allowed him to overtake "priority-one," albeit not for an extended length of time. He'd learned this the hard way on the Little Planet, and it had cost him two months in a repair hangar. He had no intention of repeating the experience, and kept ready to slow down if need be.

A glance over his shoulder alerted Sonic to Metal Sonic's increased speed. _Oh, man, this ain't good. He's gainin' on me. Well, so he can run. But…_ with a slight jump, Sonic shoved his feet in front of him and skidded twenty yards on his heels, leaving a trail of flames on the metal street as his sneakers' friction-dampening fabric exceeded its capacity. …_Can he stop on a credit?_ As Metal Sonic soared past Sonic's position, Sonic said "I'll take that as a 'no.'"

Metal Sonic did not, however, waste any time wondering what had happened. Instead, he grabbed hold of the first lightpole he passed and swung back toward Sonic, prepared to charge him head-on.

"Yikes!" Sonic yelped as he somersaulted over his opponent, barely missing the blades that ran along the droid's head and down his back. He landed facing the lightpole Metal Sonic had used and immediately spun around, expecting to see Metal charging at him again. Instead, Metal was himself crouched, seemingly cooling his jets (in a very literal sense) and waiting for Sonic to make the next move.

_"Why do you fight it, hedgehog?_" Metal asked regretfully. _"You know this can only end badly for you if you resist."_

_So he wants to run his metal mouth, eh? _Sonic noted. _Probably thinks he's gonna get me talkin' and catch me with my guard down. Dangerous. But if it buys Sal and the others a minute or two…_ "I dunno," Sonic answered with a shrug, sidestepping slowly as if seeking a better vantage point. "Guess I've always just been stubborn."

_"Stubborn and stupid, hedgehog,"_ Metal Sonic snarled, sidestepping the opposite direction as Sonic so that the two combatants moved in a circle, still facing each other and maintaining their distance. "_There are three ways this can go, Priority-One. One is you can keep it up until you get yourself killed."_

"We all gotta go some day," Sonic replied with bravado.

_"Or, you can end your pointless little resistance strapped into a roboticizer chamber and spend the rest of your days as another drone in a factory. That's the choice all rebels against Robotnik eventually make."_

Sonic snorted a laugh. "That was two, Metal head. Not three. Jeez, even SWATbots can count."

_"There _is_ a third option, hedgehog,"_ Metal Sonic spoke imploringly.

_Oh, now this is new._ "Oh yeah? What?"

Metal Sonic actually extended his hand invitingly to Sonic as he spoke. _"You could surrender. Why go to the roboticizer as a prisoner when you could walk triumphantly into the Command Center as a guest of honor?"_

Sonic actually paused for a step at that. "Say what?!"

_"You're unique, Sonic,"_ Metal Sonic continued, actually using his rival's name for the first time. _"The Doctor knows this. Your abilities would make the Empire an absolute juggernaut. That's why he built me in the first place. But he's never been able to build another like me. With you, he wouldn't need to!"_ His LED-illuminated eyes gleamed more brightly than usual as he continued, leaving Sonic with no question of the droid's sincerity. _"We'd make a hell of a team, you and I. think about it: Team Sonic, the echo and the voice. Not even the Canine Coalition would be able to stop us. And Lord Robotnik would make us its masters once it was conquered!"_

Metal Sonic froze, awaiting Sonic's answer. The only sound for several seconds was the distant whistle of laser fire, and Sonic inwardly sighed with relief that it did not come from the direction he'd left Sally and the others. "You know," he said just loudly enough for Metal Sonic's amplified auditory sensors to pick up. "It is kinda tempting."

_"Yes?"_ There was no mistaking the excitement in Metal Sonic's voice as he urged Sonic to go on.

"But you know," Sonic took on the embarrassed tone of someone confessing a bad habit, "we organics have got this little thing called 'free will,' y'know? And, I gotta admit it. I tried it at a young age and what can I say?" He shrugged, giving Metal sonic a mockingly apologetic look. "I'm hooked for life."

Sonic expected Metal Sonic to launch himself at him in a rage for his mockery. Instead, Metal dimmed his optical lights (a gesture Sonic had come to recognize as being the equivalent of narrowing his eyes) and closed his open hand of invitation back into a fist. _"And how free do you think you are, hedgehog? In your entire life, when have you truly controlled your own destiny? You've always had to have something to be loyal to." _As Sonic bristled, the two resumed their maneuvering footwork, each one seeking the first drop in the other's guard. Seeing his adversary's anger rise, Metal Sonic pressed on. _"When you were a whelp, it was always 'for king and country.' Then when you got older and figured out you had already lost both, it was 'for Knothole,' and then 'for freedom' when your little band got organized, if you want to call them organized. And lately," _he paused to give his head a reproving shake, _"it's been 'for Sally Acorn.' Yeah, all you punky little Freedom Fighters and your brainless devotion to a dethroned princess are a pretty pathetic lot."_

"I'm warnin' you, Rust Rocket," Sonic hissed, pointing his finger angrily at Metal Sonic. "I've made kitchenware outta bots for sayin' the wrong thing about Sally, and you'd look good as a can opener."

_"And all for what? All your efforts, all your sacrifices, all you've lost in your little rebellion against Lord Robotnik, all so you can build your precious 'Republic or Acorneria?' You fight a so-called tyrant so you can set another up in his place, Hedgehog. The only difference between us, Priority-One, is that my devotion is to the ruler who's winning and yours is to the would-be ruler who isn't."_

Again, sonic stopped moving. _Man, does he really think that's what it's about? He thinks I'm fighting for Sally because she's royalty?_ "I feel sorry for you, Metal," he said honestly.

Metal Sonic's red eyes grew dimmer still as he stopped, and the air behind him began to shimmer slightly as his microthrusters, now replenished, prepared to initiate. _"You what?"_

"I really do feel sorry for you, 'cause ya just don't get it," Sonic's voice grew more emphatic as he spoke. "You really think I give a badger's butt about the Republic of Acorneria? I don't, and Sally doesn't either! That's something the other rebel cells cooked up when their morale started failing and they needed a cause."

_"Yeah, right. Then why are you still fighting, hedgehog?"_

"See? I toldja, y'don't get it." Sonic locked his green eyes with Metal's red ones and spoke with a seriousness of which few would have believed him capable. "Dude, if Sally was a peasant, and if Robotnik wasn't sitting in my old home city… Hell, even if no one else in Knothole was fighting Robotnik I'd still fight for Sally Acorn."

_"Really."_ It was a denial more than a question. _"And why is that?"_

"Because I don't give beans about the Princess of the Acorn Dynasty, Metal. But I'll tear this city down with my teeth if I have to for the woman I love, or for anyone else that I call a friend." _Even though I wouldn't let Sal hear me say that for all the chili dogs Station Square._ "That's the difference between us, robot. You're devoted 'cause you're programmed to be, and I'm devoted 'cause I choose to be."

The resolve in Sonic's voice told Metal Sonic that combat would be the only way to end their feud after all. _"Well, hedgehog, I hope that devotion of yours is worth your death."_

"Yeah, it is," Sonic remarked, regaining his former cockiness. "But more importantly, it's worth yours." Without another word, Sonic drew the ring he'd used earlier from his backpack and charged at Metal Sonic, forcing the droid to duck as he whizzed by. By the time Metal sonic lifted his head, Sonic had copied the droid's trick of spinning off of a lightpole and was off down the street the way they'd both been racing before. As Metal Sonic poured full power into his microthrusters and Sonic allowed the Ring's power to flow through him, the noise from the two champions contest could be heard throughout the city. Papers and cast-off fuel cans in Sonic's wake caught fire as he passed, and Metal Sonic's microthrusters whined angrily. Though neither of them could hear the sounds of their chase, it was these very same sounds that Isaac heard as they zig-zagged up and down the streets toward his location, and it was the distraction they caused that enabled Isaac to save both his own life and Sonic's.

* * *

Illusions had always been Isaac's specialty, and today he was grateful for that, if for no other reason than his certainty that any magic that was not second-nature would be impossible for him now. His worries were two-fold. One was that with such a multitude of SWATbots to be affected by the illusion he had in mind, he would black out again in the attempt. The other was simply that he had never attempted an illusion designed for cybernetic eyes. _For that matter, I don't even know whether or not normal illusions CAN work on cybernetic eyes. Well, this'll be new to me, if not to the history books._

And so, as a pair of blue blurs, one of which moved across the ground and one of which hovered slightly above and behind appeared around a corner, Isaac focused his mental energies immediately on the illusion. He couldn't precisely see either of the approaching comets, but it seemed the SWATbots knew them, and Isaac guessed that would suffice for the illusion. The moment of truth came when a SWATbot with the rank insignia of Colonel emblazoned on his breastplate commanded _"Belay Previous order. Open fire on the hedgehog."_ Instantly, a torrent of laser fire erupted from the weapons of the amassed SWATbots.

Meanwhile the two blurs, apparently having been caught unawares by the waiting army, separated from each other. The one on the ground disappeared behind a dumpster for cover, clearly anticipating the coming barrage of fire. The other, seemingly expecting the SWATbots to assist him, took up a position atop an abandoned treaded vehicle and shouted something that sounded to Isaac like _"fire! Fire!"_

And fire they did, at his very location.

_Well,_ Isaac relaxed as the metallic blue thing reeled under fire from the SWATbot horde and ducked behind his former perch for cover. _The illusion worked._

* * *

Confusion was nothing new to Sonic the Hedgehog.

He was often confused when Sally reacted angrily to his advances when he thought himself to have acted quite charmingly. Rotor, too, often confused him by talking for hours about the finer points of some new gadget he'd built or discovered in Robotropolis. Even Antoinne could leave him scratching his head from time to time with his Mercian accent and loose grip on the Common Tongue.

But when a SWATbot voice from behind him asked _"your orders, commander,"_ Sonic's definition of the word 'confusion' waved the white flag of surrender.

Reflexes acted before conscious thought did, and it took Sonic less time to spin around and face the SWATbot than it did for him to realize what it had said. A second later came the realization that if the SWATbot had been hostile in the first place then by the time it got behind him without his knowledge, spinning around to face it was a moot point. Had this realization come to Sonic a blink later, the SWATbot would have gone to the great scrap heap in the sky waiting for orders from its 'commander.' "Uh… eh, say _what_?"

The SWATbot who, Sonic noted, wore the rank of Captain, explained. "_We have the hedgehog pinned down, sir. We are prepared to move in and take him. What are your orders?"_

Sonic beamed as he listened to the SWATbot. _Oh, you gotta be kidding me! Man, this is too way past cool for school!_ "Yeah! Do it to it!... Er, I mean," he cleared his throat and offered his best impersonation of Metal Sonic's synthetic voice. "Excellent, Captain. The Doctor will be most pleased. Take him!"

The SWATbot hesitated, and Sonic's face went pale. _Oh no. Tell me I didn't give myself away._

But the SWATbot merely raised its hand to the rim of its optical array in salute and replied, _"Yes sir, and thank you for the promotion as well."_

As the SWATbot hurried to repeat Sonic's orders to his fellows, took a look at its breastplate again. A single silver bar gleamed in the light given off by the laser fire. _Isn't that 'Captain?' Oh well._

From his refuge behind the vehicle across the street, Metal Sonic glared at Sonic. _"How in the programmer's name did you manage this, Priority-One?"_

"The hedgehog's just that good I guess," Sonic answered with a grin. "And they're about to be all over you like sweat on Snively's head, so you might wanna run. The sewers would probably be your best bet."

_"Damn you, rodent. Damn you!"_

"Sorry. I don't know that many beavers. Oh, and Metal," Sonic gave the automaton a look that was a hybrid of grin and glare. "Welcome to my life."

The last glimpse Metal Sonic had of his rival before diving into the nearest sewer entrance was of the hated hedgehog rolling on the ground, pounding the pavement with one hand and clutching his stomach with the other, having the greatest laugh he'd had since before Robotnik's takeover.


	8. Chapter Six

**A Word From The Author: Okay, okay, look. I said from the very beginning that this story was the sequel to one in another fandom, and part of a massive corssover arc. So if all the Arthurian references leave you scratching your head and asking "where did that come from?" you might want to read this story's prequel, "Southern Cross Dream," in the _Star Tropics_ section. If your literary hunger is not great enough for 126,066 words of "let me catch up," then just read on, and rest assured that the Arthurian Mythos is but a hiccup in this story if it is read on its own. It's there as part of the larger storyline of the Vanguard Saga. Don't worry, the next chapter moves the action squarely back to familiar characters. As I said in the beginning, this tale can mostly be appreciated by itself, the operative word being "mostly." Without further jibber-jabber from me, here it is.**

Chapter Six: An Imperfect Avalon

_And the Hero Ambrosius came to Earth, homeworld of the Chae-Dan, where he married Baodicea, a Daughter of the Celts. Two sons were born to them, and Ambrosius named them Merlin and Pendragon, after the Ancient Ones who had led him to Earth. Merlin was called "the Traveler," and left no sons. Pendragon was a philanderer, and had over a fifty sons by over a dozen mistresses, and these offspring were the greatest warriors of their age. It was their descendants who eventually formed the bulk of the so-called 'Round Table.' _

_One of Pendragon's sons, by his Queen, was William, and William sired Uther, who took his grandfather's name as surname. Uther Pendragon, who was called Uther the Conqueror, fathered Arthur Pendragon. It was Arthur who pulled Ambrosius's sword, Escha-Leboor (called Excalibur in the tongue of the land) from the stone where Pendragon hid it. It was also Arthur who fulfilled Pendragon's will and instituted the Old Code of Ambrosius' Order in the form of the Round Table. Unfortunately, Arthur had only one son, born from his half-sister Morgause of Cornwall, who was herself a great-granddaughter of Pendragon. This son, named Mordred, died in battle with his father, and it is believed in Arthur's land on Earth to this day that Arthur died in the battle as well._

_However, not all is as it seems._

_For Arthur was not killed, but was taken from Earth. The Ancient Ones, watching from across the stars, had finally realized that the world of the Chaos-Born was not yet ready for the bloodline of Ambrosius to mingle with theirs. For this reason, they lifted the people of Camelot, including Arthur Pendragon and all his surviving knights, from Earth and brought them to their homeworld, as they had done to the Chaos Emeralds in which they sealed the defeated Chae-Dan. One of the Knights, an outcast of Camelot named Lancelot the Frank, made his home among the Coyotes. Through his battle prowess he became great among them, and remade their nation in the image of his Frankish ancestors. They became the Nation of Mercia. The other Sons of Camelot founded a new city, called Station Square, where to this day Arthur Pendragon's descendants are the Viceroyal Dynasty Penn Drake._

From _Liber Arturis,_ Human Religious Text

* * *

Honored Elder Merlin Prower of the Ketsunae heaved a deep sigh and closed his worn, faded copy of the _Liber Arturis_. He was not, himself, a follower of the Human Religion. At least, not in the strictest sense. But as it was partly about him, he thought it good form to own a copy of the religion's sacred text. Besides, he found it enjoyable sometimes to review the story of how he and his late friend, Pendragon Arcan, introduced Humans to Mobius. Today, however, his reading was not for enjoyment, but to remind himself of an error discovered all-too-late.

_If only Mordred had died in that battle, as we both thought he had,_ the nine-tailed, eons-old fox thought with another sigh. _Then Mobius wouldn't be in its present predicament._ _If we had just looked a little more closely…_ "The cosmos Damn that trickster and his blasted seed!" Merlin hissed, because hissing and cursing at his lack of foresight were all he could do now, unless he wished to simply level the city. _And after all, it wouldn't be difficult. If I can transplant a city from one world to another by willing it to be so, destroying one can't be too taxing._ But this temptation was one Merlin had faced before, and as much as he might have wanted to erase his mistake with a wave of his hand, it would have been wrong to do so. For one thing, too many innocent Mobians were trapped in roboticized bodies within the city. For another, he had learned that interfering in the affairs of the younger races only caused more trouble in the end unless you acted with subtlety. The present dilemma was proof positive of that.

Merlin Prower had recently learned from Merlin the Traveler (who he kept in contact with over the centuries) that he had made one critical, two-part error in the transplanting of Camelot. The first part was that he had missed one of Ambrosius' descendants: Jonas of Cornwall, son of Arthur's half-nephew, Gawain of Cornwall. While this error in and of itself was not so disastrous (in fact, the descendants of Jonas had been quite beneficial in Earth's maturing), the greater part of the error was who he and Pendragon had brought to Mobius believing him to be Jonas. It was none other than Mordred, the traitor son of Arthur. Upon learning this, Merlin had thought to look into the history of the descendants left by the one he'd thought to be Jonas and learned the nauseating truth. The genealogy of "Jonas" led straight to House Robotnik.

Robotnik, the Tyrant of Robotropolis, was descended from Mordred.

_Which makes the existence of the Robotropolitan Empire largely my fault. _Standing on the outskirts of the infernal city of machines, Merlin gritted his teeth. _And this is just the latest in a line of mistakes almost older than this star system. If I'd done what I set out to do in the first place there'd have been no Ambrosius. Even if he was my friend, that is the truth, and it would have prevented the births of Mordred and Robotnik. Of course, there'd have also been no Dragmire, no Cyrus, and no Solaur. But then again, maybe it was through the very order we imposed on the universe that Solaur was born, because it was in him that our crime in falsely imprisoning the Chae-Dan came home to roost. Great Cosmos, I don't even want to begin to think about what's going to happen when the world at large learns there are seven new "Super Emeralds," with power opposite the Seven Chaos._

Quickly, the old fox shook his head to clear it. Not only was he woolgathering in his old age, but that kind of thinking would only lead him to a place he did not want to go. It was true that a bit more decisiveness from him early in the universe's existence could have saved it from the presence of more evils than he cared to think about, but he could not dwell on his failures. Not yet, at least. There would be time for penance after his ancient mistake was corrected and the Dark One was finally slain. _Which is to say 'after the Vanguard War,' which brings me to my present investigation._

Merlin had come to Robotropolis for two reasons. The first was that three of his kind were known to be inside the city. One, Isaac, was currently in dire straits. Merlin could sense that. And yet as dire as Isaac's situation was, it was not so grave as Isaac would have believed, because even as he struggled for his life another combatant, also fighting for his own life, was coming to Isaac's aid. Isaac was exactly what the other combatant needed to save himself, and vice versa. Such was always the way of things in an ordered universe, and the universe was indeed an ordered one. The Ketsunae had made sure of that when they sealed their Chae-Dan rivals in the Chaos Emeralds early in the universe's history.

The other reason Merlin had come to Robotropolis had to do with both the city's lord, and the rebel combatant coming to Isaac's aid. _A fine troop he and his friends make, and quite accustomed to fighting against a foe more numerous and powerful than themselves. Those are skills the Vanguard is definitely going to need. And as for Robotnik… yes. The Dark One is going to choose four for his assembly, but perhaps if I can choose one for him I can undermine him, and Robotnik seems the prime candidate. And with his plan to reach Chae-Dan I have a ready-made means to make it happen. The chance I take is that he'll prove too great an asset to the other four, and overcome the Vanguard. Great Stars it's a dangerous game I play. Ah, Sally, daughter of my dear friend Maximillian, it is a cruel thing I'm going to put you and your subjects through: more cruel even than what Robotnik did to your kingdom. I just pray you understand in the end what is at stake, and why it is necessary… And moreover, I pray that you succeed._

But now, a new development made matters a bit more complicated. Because mere minutes before, while observing the Freedom Fighters unseen (a feat made easier due to the fires around him, courtesy of the Stealthbots sent to sweep the area where he detected a Sonic boom earlier), he'd noticed something he did not expect among them. It was a flying fox. Specifically, it was a two-tailed flying fox.

Merlin had seen multi-tailed foxes nearly every day of his life. The Ketsunae race had engineered their physical forms ages ago to manifest extra tails as they grew in power at older ages. But Mobian foxes, as far as Merlin remembered, never grew extra tails. What was more surprising was the fact that this two-tailed fox appeared to be no older than Isaac. _Younger, in fact. And the only time I've ever seen multiple tails on anyone that young… _

_But is it possible? I left him with the nanny Rosie. How can he…_ in that moment, the events of ten missed years flooded into clear focus for Merlin. _I have to find Isaac and warn him._

* * *

Merlin Prower was not the only one in Robotropolis watching the flying fox with keen interest. Youth, adrenaline, and inexperience had made Tails unobservant of his surroundings, or else he might have noticed the lone, brown orb with its single lens-eye, watching him from the shadow of a the guard tower in which he'd taken refuge during his entrance into the city. Now, the orb followed him, hovering far enough behind him to avoid detection by the Freedom Fighters. It was a surveillance orb, one of the ever-abundant roving security cameras nicknamed "spy eyes" by the Freedom Fighters. Programmed with no A.I. other than a direct link to a central computer which controlled all such orbs in the city, it was programmed to follow any organic signatures and monitor them from concealment. If, at any time, the central computer picked a certain orb's feed to be of greater importance than any others, it relayed that signal directly to Master Control. This enabled Robotnik to constantly be aware of rebel activity anywhere in his vast capitol city.

Until now, the central computer had not considered this particular orb's feed to be of extreme importance, being more concerned with the SWATbot battle in sector two-seven-bravo. But now, as the SWATbots there dispersed on Robotnik's orders (while the dictator attempted to discern why the legion had taken to pursuing their commander instead of their target), and the surveillance orbs with them, the computer re-examined its assessment of priorities. With 'Priority-One' no longer in view, it began scanning the signals relayed by its many subordinate orbs, and came across one monitoring a single, anomalous data stream: a flying fox. After perusing its internal memory for any record of such a being, it encountered a series of locked files under the heading "Subject Entry: Tails." Still seeking a reply to its inquiry, the Surveillance Orb control computer transmitted the same search to the city's main Control Core. The search result left the control computer with no doubts about the subject of the orb's surveillance.

A nanosecond later, a live video feed of Tails, flying low through the streets of Robotropolis, with two other Freedom Fighters nearby, was projected across the Master Control screen before Robotnik's very eyes.

* * *

Sonic's laughter took several minutes to subside, and even when it did, he found himself prey to fits of giggling at the mental image of his rival's predicament. Slowly, though, he came around. _Alright, self, ol' buddy. Get a grip_, he chided himself. _You're still in Ro-Town, and this ain't the place to have a funny-bone attack. There might still be snot-bots kickin' around._ With that, Sonic climbed to his feet and looked around, seeking anything he could use to determine just where he was. "Let's see," he muttered. "Ol' Egg-bot's Command Center looks like it's to the East-Northeast, and we came into the city from due South, so where does that put me?"

Sadly, land navigation had never been one of Sonic's strong points.

"Lost as a Buzzbomber in a hurricane," the hedgehog answered himself dismally after a moment's thought. "I guess I'll have to risk the walkie." That said, he reached into his backpack and drew out the two-way radio communicator which every Freedom Fighter carried. Generally, using the comm was avoided for several reasons. The first reason stemmed from worries that Robotnik would tap into the signal and monitor their plans, or worse yet, track them to Knothole. The other was that one had no way of knowing if the Freedom fighter on the other end of the line was in a situation where silence was necessary to prevent detection. For this reason, the communicator was considered 'for emergency use only.'

_I'm pretty sure this qualifies,_ Sonic assured himself as he pressed the transmit button and held the speaker close to his lips so that his whisper could be heard. "Sonic to Sal, come in."

After a pause that was just long enough for Sonic to worry that the princess had been put in jeopardy by sonic's transmission, a reply came. "_This is Sally_," the alto voice said over the pollution-induced static, as though Sonic could mistake her voice for anyone else's. "_Sonic, are you alright? Are you still engaging Metal?"_

"Nah, we called it off for irreconcilable differences," Sonic replied, unable to pass up a joke in any circumstances. "But, I got a little problem."

_"You mean besides an idiotic sense of humor?"_

"For real, Sal."

There was a pause long enough to cover an irritated sigh, and then "_what is it, Sonic?"_

"Eh, w… what's your twenty?"

_"Come again?"_

"That's what I'm sayin' Sal. I can't. I'm a little lost."

_"Well if you're the one lost, knowing my location isn't going to help you much, now is it?"_ Sally's voice contained just a hint of the flirtacious smugness with which a teenage girl always speaks when she has a male at her mercy.

"Sal," Sonic whined.

_"Alright, alright. Can you get back to where we were when Metal Sonic started pursuing you?"_

Sonic considered this for a moment. "Eh, negative."

_"Okay. What about the usual rendezvous point?"_

"Sal, you're not getting' it. If I knew how to find any of that from here, I wouldn't be lost, now would I?"

_"Sonic, you are absolutely impossible! Okay, look. Can you get to the target zone from where you are?"_

Sonic glanced upward. Even through the smoggy haze of the industrial capitol's sky, the Command Center's egg-shaped bulk loomed large overhead, blocking out the planet's Blue-Giant sun and its Red-Dwarf companion behind it. If there had been any mistaking the building's silhouette, the presence of Task Force _E.G.G_. hovering in the sky with their noses docked at the building's peak made that impossible as they cast their shadows over the city below like three twisted spokes of some colossal broken wheel. From where he stood, it would be difficult not to find his way there. "Yup," he answered.

_"Okay then. Scout out the area, and wait for us. Sally out."_

"Cool. Meetcha there." Sonic clipped the communicator back into place and, drew the Power Ring, and thought better of it. _I'm going for stealth, not for fun. Which _means_ I can't go blastin' through everything in sight. Aw, man, what I wouldn't give for a chance to Spin Dash somethin'._ With a regretful sigh, Sonic slipped the ring back into his backpack and set out for the Command Center at a walk.

It was not until later that it crossed his mind to stop and wonder how he had been miraculously spared from the SWATbots' attack.

* * *

From his hiding place in the alley, Isaac watched the blue hedgehog go. _So that's Sonic, the hero of Station Square. It's a shame I can't introduce myself. His Freedom Fighters and I could probably benefit a lot from each other. But this city doesn't seem like the place for a social call. I'll just have to assume he knows how to look after himself. In the meantime, I absolutely _must_ to do a better job of the same._

Having been granted breathing space, Isaac took stock of his injuries and his surroundings. His body itself had been virtually undamaged, but the strain on his unpracticed power had left him fatigued. He couldn't afford another direct assault, Ancient One or not. Already the sounds of the SWATbots pursuing Metal Sonic had died down, and Isaac guessed it would not take long for Robotnik to have the droids dispersed about the city in heavy patrols, seeking their former target.

_Which former target, though? That's the question: me, Sonic, or whoever was on the other end of that communicator? Dammit, this wasn't supposed to be this difficult. _Isaac briefly considered tailing Sonic, offering unseen help. After all, Sonic was on his way to the Command Center, which Isaac guessed was the large building with the airships docked at it. He also assumed that would be where his kindred were imprisoned. The idea was not completely without merit to Isaac.

But in the end, he opted against it. There were too many unknowns. Isaac could inadvertently announce his presence to Sonic, in which case there would be suspicion and, possibly, outright combat, and Isaac had no intention of finding himself and his enemy's enemy at odds with each other. Aside from that, even if Isaac could keep himself hidden from Sonic, he'd seen first hand that he couldn't keep himself hidden from Robotnik's prying eyes. If he were discovered, it would be bad for him as well as Sonic, and he wasn't sure the illusion trick would work again. "Well, this is a fine kettle of fish," Isaac spat as he ducked back into the alley to think. _No, bad idea. This alley is the last place they saw me. I need to move. Doh, what in the Elder's Name am I supposed to do?_

As Isaac wondered this, a breeze began to blow through the alley, and the temperature began to rise. "Oh, what now?" Isaac sighed in utter exasperation as he turned toward the back of the alley to look for anything that could be the source of a hot breeze in an alley with towering walls on three sides. Summoning what remained of his power, a phenomenon Mortals called Chaos Control, he prepared to face-off with whatever unseen war machine had lain dormant throughout the SWATbot battle. He saw nothing.

But the breeze grew stronger.

As the wind grew in force, gaining enough strength to pick up the ash that coated the street after the battle, it took on a new and more confusing aspect. Its shape was that of a vortex. _A dust-devil, at this latitude?_ Preparing for some kind of attack to come, Isaac wrapped himself anew in his armored chrysalis of Chaos-Controlled magic. Even as the comforting warmth of the magic tightened around him, Isaac felt himself growing faint again as his mind cried out against this fresh strain so soon after the overtaxing engagement. _There's nothing to do about it, though. I'll just have to deal with this quickly. As soon as I see _what_ I'm dealing with, that is!_

The whirlwind of ash grew more intense without expanding, forming a chilling column of opaque ashen dust that climbed increasingly skyward. In all, it had not been more than three seconds since Isaac first perceived the breeze, and already he was worried that, if nothing else, the peculiar phenomenon would latch onto the attention of every badnik and SWATbot in the city and not let go if it continued any longer. No sooner, however, had this thought entered Isaac's mind than the wind stopped as suddenly as an electrical current when the power switch is turned off, and the column of ash dispersed into a slowly drifting cloud of soot.

There, where the eye of the vortex had been a moment before, stood a nine-tailed, brown-furred fox. The fox wore a tattered cloak that appeared to have once been blue, though the age and wear had turned it a nondescript color somewhere between gray and brown. His face was shadowed, but not concealed, by the hood of his cloak, and this gave him an air of mystery, if not menace. It had been a decade since Isaac had seen this fox, and he himself had been little more than a toddler at that time. But the nine-tailed one had not changed in that time, and Isaac, recognizing him immediately, stood tall in rapt attention before the Elder of his people.

"Elder Prower?!" Isaac's voice, which was high-pitched for a male his age even as it was, became little more than a squeak.

"Isaac," Merlin spoke softly, but with a tone that left no question about who was in charge. "We have a new problem."

Isaac lowered his eyes, unable to face Merlin. "I… I know. I failed, and now the Eggman has Orana and Solyurus. I'm not sure how a mortal did this, but-"

"Stop calling them 'mortals,' Isaac. We ourselves aren't immortal." The venerable vulpine took a few belabored steps forward, leaning as he did on a cane (which Isaac knew implicitly was merely for show). His own eyes fell dark for a moment as a look of regret passed over them. "And the failure is mine, Isaac, for leaving you alone so long with a task so far beyond your years. But don't worry about Orana and Solyurus. I assure you, child, I have no intention of seeing them in the hands of Mordred's heir."

Isaac hesitated a moment before asking, "who is Mordred, sir?"

Merlin allowed himself a chuckle. "I keep forgetting how young you are, Isaac. Never mind Mordred. Suffice it to say that I'm here because…" his voice caught in his throat, as if unable to utter the truth. Finally, he forced himself to finish. "Because as far as I know, the only Ketsunae to have escaped Solaur's butchery are all in this city."

Isaac's motuh opened and closed in horror, admitting no sound for several seconds. When he was finally able to speak again he asked, "Elder, you don't mean the Ketsunae are no more."

Merlin answered him sadly. "Solaur did to us what exactly we did to the Chae-Dan. He sealed our people in prisons of crystal from which their energies can be externally controlled."

"How?" Isaac shouted, then glanced around to make sure no curious surveillance orbs had noticed the outburst. In a more hushed tone he continued, "how has that not imbalanced the Chaos Cycle?"

"You forget, Isaac," Merlin admonished. "Ours is the power of Order, not of Chaos. If anything, Solaur's treachery brought balance into the Chaos Cycle. If our crimes against the Chae-Dan needed to be made more apparent, I'd have to say that fact fits the bill nicely."

"Elder," Isaac pressed on, "how is that possible? And what are these 'new prisons' where the Ketsunae are being held?"

"They're on Angel Island now," Merlin answered, "where they'll probably stay for all time: on the altar intended for the Seven Chaos. The Guardian has taken it upon himself to ensure that these 'Super Emeralds' remain untouched, just like the Controller and the Seven Chaos."

Isaac felt himself choke as the reality sank in. "The Super emeralds," he repeated. "I heard rumors of them. They said Sonic and the Guardian used them against Robotnik before. But I always assumed they weren't real… _couldn't_ be real. I mean…" he reached a hand up to the side of his face as if to wipe away a tear that was too shocked to form. "Can we undo this?"

"No more than we can undo what was done to the Chae-Dan," Merlin replied. "Our only saving grace comes from the fact that unlike the Chae-Dan, a few of us survived. Hopefully, there are enough that we can pick up the pieces and rebuild. If nothing else, at least our race will live on."

"And how many of us are left, Elder?"

Merlin drew himself up to his full height, all nine of his tails twitching behind him. "As far as I can tell, five, all of whom are in the city right now."

Isaac nodded briefly before his mind caught up with his ears. When it did, he did a double-take which Merlin would have found comical under other circumstances. "Five? Me, you, Orana, Solyurus… who's the fifth? Is there someone else with you?"

"No." Merlin answered slowly, intending for Isaac to pick up on every word the first time. "He came with Maximillian Acorn's daughter. He is the younger brother of Solaur Prower."


	9. Chapter Seven

**Another Blasted Note From the Author: Hello again, all. Well, here it is. After nearly two months of silence in which I've been through a month-long spell of unemployment, two hospital stays, a court appearance, and more crap than I'd prefer to go into here, I've finally posted an update. But enough of my making excuses. The purpose of this note is to give you, the readers, a heads-up that I'm taking a bit of artistic license in this chapter, and it involves Knuckles. Believe me, you'll know it when you see it. For all you purists, I understand Knuckles never spoke with any kind of accent in the game canon, but it seemed to fit with my portrayal of Angel Island. If this little indulgence bothers you, this may be the point where you give up on this story. If that's the case, I apologize, and thank you for reading this far. For those of you who can tolerate a little bit of authorial whimsy, read on. Who know? You just might like it. **

Chapter Seven: The Land Up Over

Snively passed through the airlock in Flying Battery's docking berth and made his way to the bridge clutching a bunched up handkerchief to his bleeding nose. The handkerchief was almost fully red by his time, and the dwarfish man could feel the veins beginning to throb in his nose. Still, he paid little attention to the pain. Years of service to his uncle had brought him to the point where pain was nothing more than an indicator of what needed to be done to mend his injuries. Pain, he had come to realize, is temporary, as was his uncle's threatening mood. So long as he survived the initial outburst of his uncle's "other side," he was in no danger.

For now.

But with each passing day the Eggman took more and more control of Robotnik's mind, and the day would soon come, Snively feared, when Robotnik's rational understanding of Snively's importance would give way to the Eggman's blind brutality. Today, for example, had been far too close for Snively's comfort. In truth, Sonic's presence in the city had likely been the only reason Robotnik did not pursue the little man, or order SWATbots to do so. If that had happened, Snively knew it would have all ended for him, by his own uncle's order.

_No. Not by my uncle's order. By order of that thing in his head._ Snively let out an audible snarl at the thought of the Eggman, causing several nearby badniks (Technosqueak series, if Snively recalled their mouse-like forms correctly) to skitter away in fear that the sound was directed at them_. Good. Let them skitter. That's just fewer distractions for me at a time when I'd prefer to be alone with my thoughts._ Snively often preferred to be alone with his thoughts, and it was at these times when he was the most miserable, since his thoughts were always foul and depraved. He was, after all, the product of his upbringing by his uncle's hand.

And therein lay the conundrum for Snively. For all Robotnik's cruelty, for all the torments Snively endured from the dictator, the floating fat man was his uncle, and the closest thing to a father he'd ever known. And in some remote, cobweb filled corner of Snively's mind where such feelings as this had been able to remain packed away (and thus escape being expunged from his head altogether), Snively loved him. He even allowed himself the dream that his uncle had a certain soft spot for him. Not affection, per se, but respect at least. Perhaps even pride, the pride an accomplished man has in the one who will one day take over that which he himself has built. Snively was, after all, the nearest to the throne of Robotropolis.

But that too was a 'for now' statement. For, as Eggman's influence grew within Robotnik's mind, Metal Sonic's influence grew outside it.

Snively tore the blood-covered handkerchief in two with a scream of rage as he thought of the hedgehog simulacrum. "Saint Metal," he muttered, "the Patron Saint of successful campaigns no doubt, the Avenging Archangel of the Machine's God." It was unfair. That was all Snively could say about the situation: it was unfair. Of course Metal Sonic was more successful in battle. He was designed for it. But it had partly been Snively's doing that he was so well designed for it. Surely that had to count for something! Besides, it wasn't his fault he was born with such a weak constitution. And it had been in an effort to overcome this self-acknowledged weakness that he had become his uncle's apprentice in the first place. His own theorems, his own designs... these had been instrumental in Robotnik's success more times than he cared to count.

_And still, a weapon made in the image of his enemy is 'son,' while I, who helped make that weapon, am a 'simpering lapdog.'_

It was unavoidable. Between Metal Sonic and the Eggman, Snively's place grew more tenuous every day. It was only a matter of time before he became obsolete. And what then? Execution? Roboticization? Which would be worse? _Probably roboticization_, Snively reasoned. _Living every day as a drone in service to that tool with the full knowledge that he sits on what should be my throne... I think not. I think not, Metal_.

There was only one solution. Metal Sonic had to go. But the question was how. Snively couldn't hope to assassinate the droid outright. _If assassination is even the proper word_. And he dared not try to destroy him by sabotage. Robotnik would simply rebuild him and punish Snively for it. No, it seemed the only way Metal Sonic would ever fall was in combat with his namesake, and even that left little possibility for destruction beyond repair. Besides, Robotnik would harness the droid's memory and use it for something else, and Snively would be no better off than he was now. No, Snively needed a way to remove Metal Sonic from the equation while simultaneously improving his standing in Robotnik's eyes. And the only way to do that, it seemed, was to eliminate Sonic. And to eliminate Sonic and Metal Sonic at the same time would be...

...One of the simplest things imaginable. _Great gods, how did I not think of this ages ago!_ With this new consideration, a plan to regain his uncle's esteem (and his place in the succession) began to form itself in Snively's mind. _All I have to do is wait until they meet in combat again on Angel island. Oh, yes, the hedgehog will track us there. There is no doubt of that, provided he survives this little foray into the city. Yes, Angel Island will be the perfect place._

_And all I have to do is prepare the Launch Base._

_

* * *

_

Unknown to Snively, the Launch Base had its own set of problems to prepare for at that moment. Or, perhaps it would be closer to the truth to say the launch base had one major problem at that moment. That problem had already led to the destruction of twenty-seven security SWATbots, a failure of the surveillance systems in three quadrants, and widespread flooding in the Northeast Quadrant of the base. The same problem was responsible for an explosion in the communications compound (which meant that at present, all external communication was off-line). Unconfirmed reports suggested the problem was also the cause of numerous power failures throughout the base. The problem was, at present, in the process of battering its way through the durasteel walls of Command/Control Center 001. The problem's name was Knuckles.

And Knuckles was not happy. The ear-splitting, echoing _KLANG_ that the wall section made as it tore free of the rivets that held it in place and collapsed onto the floor of the control center's storage room erased any doubts of that. But just to be sure the point had been made, Knuckles vaulted through his improvised doorway and, with a one-two punch from his bony, spiked knuckles, gave a nearby SWATbot a glimpse of what its internal components look like when dangling from its back. And then, to give the now-staggering SWATbot a better view of his handiwork, he leapt onto its shoulders, gripped its domed head by the sides, and twisted it one hundred eighty degrees, causing sparks to erupt from its neck. As positronic neurocircuits began to discharge randomly, the SWATbot flailed about drunkenly, its finger clenching and unclenching the trigger of its blaster rifle as it swung the rifle about in its dance of death before it finally fell prone on the floor, dropping the rifle. The resulting blaster bolts added to the random, illogical orgy of destruction quite nicely, Knuckles thought, finally climbing down off of the SWATbot.

"Roight-o," he said to the shattered SWATbot. "All in a day's work, mate. Thanks f'th' roide. Oh, and welcim, t' the land upovah, hope y'enjoy your stay, and don't f'get ta stop at th' gift shop on your way out." His business with the SWATbot completed, Knuckles looked around for opposition from its cohorts. It had apparently been part of a two-unit patrol, and its counterpart lay unmoving next to it with a smoking hole in its glossy black chestplate, courtesy of one of the blaster bolts from the disemboweled SWATbot. The metal around the hole was still red-hot, and some of the internal circuitry appeared to have caught fire from the shot. More importantly, the hole was right where Knuckles thought he remembered a SWATbot's hydrogen fuel cell being. _Makin' a few tracks moight be an ordah, _Knuckles surmised, _'fore this bloke blows t' kingdom come 'n' takes half the room with 'im._ With that purpose in mind, Knuckles dusted himself off and looked for an exit. The room had only one, and it was magnetically sealed. A keypad on the wall next to it indicated that it would not willingly admit Knuckles. _It'll hafta do._

The door succumbed to the same negotiation that the wall had, and far more easily. Within seconds, Knuckles was standing in an access corridor inside C/C 001. Unfortunately, so was a four-unit SWATbot patrol, and sooner than Knuckles could shout "ah, croikey," he found himself ducking behind the wall of the storage room, thrusting his knuckles into the wall for purchase, and climbing for dear life. The climbing was a little slower than Knuckles would have liked (the wall was ceramic plasteel after all), but fortunately, standard patrol SWATbots did not pursue targets until orders to do so came from their battalion's control computer. By the time they entered the room, Knuckles was above their field of vision. _Alroight, mates, looks loike I've got the ole drop on yeh. Y'nevah should've come into th'room in th'first place…_ something about that thought jarred Knuckles's mind, as if an engine that wouldn't start had been made to work by being kicked. Why was it that they should never have come in? Come to think of it, there was a reason he wasn't supposed to be here either.

Right on cue, a hiss of steam from the disemboweled SWATbot reminded Knuckles what that reason was. "Oh, bleedin' croipes!" He cursed, dropping from the wall onto the head of one of the four SWATbots who'd pursued him. They looked up toward the source of the noise and fired barely a moment too slowly, and there was a mixed smell of ozone and singed echidna spines in the air as Knuckles, wasting no time to vent his rage on the SWATbots, bolted through the damaged door and into the hall. A spray of laserfire left salt-and-pepper scoring on the corridor wall opposite the door, but Knuckles was already ten meters down the hall when the SWATbot patrol realized their target had once again eluded them. This realization was the last signal their remote-operated brains sent to their control computer before the explosion of their former colleague reduced them to a tangled knot of copper wires and titanium armor.

"I guess the 'SWAT' part stands feh 'Scrapped Without Any Trouble,'" Knuckles gloated as the smoke from the diminutive hydrogen bomb wafted down the corridor in both directions. "Now, back t'business." A glance up and down the corridor told him he was, for the time being at least, alone in the corridor. The base's emergency lights bathed the corridor in a pulsing and fading red glow which, aside from making it impossible to tell how far in either direction the corridor extended, had the added effect of leaving Knuckles with the inescapable feeling of being within the guts of some colossal monster. For that matter, he wasn't sure how aware of his presence the base was yet.

"Actually," Knuckles corrected his own thinking, "I can just about wayjah that the control brain knows I'm here now, seein' that I gave those four enough time to have a wee chat with the comp before I smashed 'em up. Guess it's just a mattah 'f time 'fore they send a little welcoming pahty. Moight be smaht to be somewhere else when they get 'ere, eh Knuckles, ole bloke? Bloomin' 'ell, this place gives me th'creeps anyway. Stay here much longer, 'n' I'm liable t' woind up talkin' t'myself. Well, toime t'go." With that little pearl of wisdom to see him on his way, Knuckles looked around him, seeking which direction would offer the least chance of more SWATbots. A quick glance upward offered an answer.

One of the greatest ironies concerning Doctor Ivo Robotnik was the selectivity of his genius. For example, his mastery of positronics went without saying, and his grasp of theoretical metaphysics and quantum mechanics made themselves known in the number of Chaos Emerald centric plans that would have succeeded without the interference of a few certain rebels. But in matters of architecture, his thinking still had its flaws. Otherwise he would have realized that a base populated solely by mechanized personnel had little need of ventilation ducts. He might also have followed this line of thinking to discover that said ducts served little purpose in such a base other than to provide convenient sneaking space for suitably sneaky intruders. Alas and alack, this subtlety was lost on the good doctor. But one man's loss was another man's gain, or in this case, another echidna's. Up was the easiest way to go, so up Knuckles went, straight into the ventilation system.

_Y'know,_ Knuckles caught himself thinking as he carefully slipped a piece of wire grating back into its place to hide his escape, _I can't believe I'm saying this, but this'd be a right spot more fun with that blue spiky-haired bloke 'n' 'is half-pint fox friend around._

* * *

As Knuckles made his way through the air ducts of the Angel Island launch base, he wasn't the only one thinking of Sonic's half-pint fox friend. In fact, at that moment, Tails was at the very forefront of Robotnik's mind. More than on his mind, though, he was in his sights. Flying above the tops of the mangled derelict heaps that had once been the city's upper-scale residential quarter, the fox still had not detected the surveillance orb that was at that point fixed on him.

"Ah, the innocence of youth," Robotnik rasped breathily. "My dear princess, you should have taught him to be more careful in Robotropolis. This city is dangerous, after all. You never know who might be watching." As if amused by his own humor, a low, rumbling laugh began to boil up from Robotnik's belly, becoming a thunderous guffaw at its peak volume. Once his laughter had exhausted itself he returned his gaze to the screen, his malignant disgust no longer disguised by the marginally less terrifying insane mirth that had been there moments before. Metal Sonic was in the process of dragging his broken and scarred chassis back to Master Control, where he would spend the better part of a week in maintenance. A chance at capturing a third Ancient One had been lost. If all that wasn't enough, the Freedom Fighters were deeper in his city than they'd been in over a year. The last time a raid had hit this close to home it had only been Sonic and Tails, and Robotnik had barely escaped then to the Wing Fortress. _Even then, the hedgehog managed to follow me in that pitiful little biplane, eventually boarding the Wing Fortress, sneaking onto my escape pod, and sabotaging the Death Egg when the escape pod got there._

And Robotnik had still not forgotten who made the Sky Chase to the Wing Fortress possible. _No, little fox, I haven't forgotten. It was you who flew that ridiculous little craft, and it was you who rescued the hedgehog from what would otherwise have been a fatal fall after the Death Egg's reentry into the atmosphere. If not for you, I would have been rid of that pestilential pincushion then and there. _Robotnik clenched his hands into iron fists as the memories played themselves inside his digitalized brain in sickening slow motion. _But no matter, no matter. That will soon be corrected. _To emphasize his point, a squadron of Buzzbomber series war droids hovered into the surveillance orb's view, taking positions far enough behind the flying fox to avoid his notice, and deep enough in the shadows of the city to escape the notice of his friends on the ground. The hornet-like droids raised their tail-mounted forward blasters (_Stinger_ series laser cannons, a joke in which Snively still took pride) toward their target and waited. Their internal modems relayed confirmation to Master Control that they were set to heavy stun, and they awaited the order to fire.

Robotnik grinned, a sick, predatory parody of a grin in which all of his chrome-plated teeth gleamed in the fluorescent light. The hedgehog was elsewhere. The Freedom Fighters on the ground would not be likely to notice Tails' absence until it was too late. Cautiously, his fingers twitching in anticipation, Robotnik pressed a glowing red part of the status screen marked "confirm." Instantly, bolts of pale blue energy lanced outward from the Buzzbombers, intersecting at the point where Tails' small form flew. His tails stopped spinning and went as limp as the rest of his body as he fell silently to a rooftop not far below. His lightweight body made a barely audible thump as it impacted the duracrete roof. Moments later two Buzzbombers separated from the squadron and swooped down upon their fallen target with an electronet dangling between them. Into this they scooped the unconscious fox. Once he was safely stowed away, they took flight again.

Neither Sally nor Bunny so much as glanced in his direction.

* * *

In case of malfunction, break screen.

Sometimes Snively wished he could walk around Robotropolis with notices bearing those instructions and attach them to every vid-comm in the city. His uncle would frown upon it if he found out about it, and the maintenance Tekbots would practically revolt. Still, at times like this, standing on the bridge of Flying Battery and staring at a blank satellite video communications screen where the image of a SWATbot Colonel should have been, it would make Snively feel better. "Unable to find signal," he read the monitor's petulant response with undisguised disgust. "There are more than twenty communications towers on that launch base, and I can't get a signal from _one_ of them?"

"_I apologize for the inconvenience, sir,_" droned a SWATbot with the gold oak-leaf insignia of a Major on his chestplate. _"We lost all communications with all three divisions at Angel Island ninety-four minutes ago. We have not discovered any malfunction in our communications equipment at this time, leading us to believe the problem lies on the Angel Island end."_

Snively glared at the SWATbot Major. "But that makes no sense either. Twenty plus communications towers don't just spontaneously malfunction all at once. That would take…" _That would take Knuckles._ The unspoken thought remained there in that part of his mind he called 'on the tip of his tongue,' just daring him to finish the sentence. _Oh, this is bad. I can't go back to Master Control right now. The Eggman might still be in control. But if the Guardian has learned that the launch base isn't so abandoned after all, then it's possible he could find the A.I. Project. If that happens…_ There was no avoiding it. Everything, _everything_… depended on the A.I. Project's continued security. If that project failed, a year's work by the entire empire had been wasted. Resignedly, Snively keyed in Master Control's extension on the internal comm. System. "The Great Round One isn't going to like this a bit," he muttered.


	10. Chapter Eight

**What? ANOTHER Note From the Author? Ooookay. The jury has reached a verdict, and Knuckles' accent will be downplayed (slightly) in future chapters. To those of you who helped me reach this decision, thank you. Your hate mail is always appreciated. Sarcasm, gotta love it. Anyway, this chapter kind of gets back to Isaac and Merlin, who have been notably absent for a few chapters. Moreover, this chapter really reminds the reader of the uncomfortable truth that chaos Cycle is, at the end of the day, part of a crossover. As a side note, it has been ventured by some of my Beta staff that a more appropriate title for this chapter would be "Sally's Miracle." Another suggested title, slightly more colorful, was "Sally Gets the Crap Beaten Out of Her." In the end, I opted to leave the title as was. But enough of my senseless banter. Enjoy!**

Chapter Eight: A Calculated Risk

I'll try and warn Knuckles. That's what Uncle Chuck had written in his hastily scrawled note to Sally, and he meant it at the time. The hitch, which was a bit late in occurring to him, was that he had not the vaguest clue how. He'd never even met the Guardian. Sure, he'd heard Sonic's account of the Death Egg's crash on Angel Island, and how a dreadlocked maniac had been duped into helping Robotnik fight Sonic while he reconstructed the station, and he knew from pirated surveillance orb footage what Knuckles looked like. But when Sonic and Knuckles parted ways afterward it was on shaky terms at best, and even their renewed alliance during the Perfect Chaos incident (which, Chuck surmised, was probably the Guardian's only foray off the island in his life) had only very slightly eased relations. Given that, Chuck highly doubted that Sonic would have taken the time to say "by the way, did I ever tell you about my Uncle Chuck? Yeah, he got roboticized, but now he's a spy. Tell him I said 'hi' if you see him."

_"So the million Mobium question is 'how the blue blazes do I get a message to an echidna running loose somewhere on supposedly deserted Angel Island?'"_ Chuck murmured once he was sure the manhole cover leading to his hideout was securely back in place over his head. His robotic feet made filled the former sewer passage with hollow, echoing rings with each rung of the ancient iron ladder he descended, and in the back of his mind he winced with each ring. Not only was there the constant, nagging worry that one day some SWATbot would hear that sound and have the presence of processor to realize it was out of place, but there was also a simpler, albeit, more ironic reason for the wincing. Chuck's knees hurt.

It was, when you got right down to it, an absolutely cosmic irony. The roboticizer's original purpose, before it's psychologically detrimental qualities became known, had been to help elderly Mobians live longer, fuller lives, free of the worries that come with an organic body's unavoidable wind down (And I should know, Chuck brooded, because I invented the damned thing). And yet, those mechanical joints still had their own form of arthritis when one had put the miles on them that Chuck had. It wasn't a pain that an organic being would recognize. Pain receptors were one of the body's systems for which the roboticizer found no mechanical analog. Instead, each of a roboticized Mobian's moving parts had a neuroservo sensor that monitored the wear and tear done to the joint by routine activities. When the damage reached the point where maintenance was necessary, or when routine activities were beginning to bring with them the risk of irreparable damage, the sensor relayed a signal to the digitalized brain informing it of this. Normally, the subject would then report to the nearest mechanical facility for routine maintenance.

Normally, though, the subject wasn't the second most wanted person in their home city. Chuck's knees had been in need of maintenance, including a few replacement parts, for the better part of a year now, and his neurosensors were more forceful about telling him this each day. He was, he knew quite well, nearing the point when his internal safety system would begin shutting down limbs to prevent further strain, paralyzing him in the process. If that happened while he was within the city, it was all over. Sonic and Sally both had been urging him to come to Knothole and have Rotor look at him, but his duty to the cause here had taken precedence. Besides, he wasn't sure how safe it was for him to come to Knothole. There had been occasions when the roboticizer had taken temporary control of his mind back from him, and if that happened when he was in Knothole…

_"If this happens when I'm here, or if that happens when I'm there,"_ Chuck chided himself. "_There's risks either way you look at it, old man, and you're going to have to face one of those risks eventually. Put them at risk by going, or put them and yourself both at risk by staying. It's called 'war.' Live with it."_ In the meantime, he'd reached the bottom of the ladder, and was about to whisper a quick 'thank the gods' when he remembered his current dilemma. _"If I want there to be any gods left to thank, I'd better come up with a way to get a message to Knuckles. Unfortunately, the only time that Island's seen modern telecommunications equipment was…"_ The answer came with such force that Chuck worried for a moment that the neurosensors had added his brain to the list of overused parts in need of maintenance. _"The Launch Base, of course!"_ Once that datum slipped into place, the rest was as simple as extradimensional quantum metaphysics.

The Launch Base was equipped with a PA system, used for delivering base-wide messages to units not equipped with internal modems (such as Workerbots). From what Chuck remembered, it was probably loud enough to be heard anywhere on the island. This only made sense, given that Robotnik was not the kind to ensure that his troops stayed within their defined territory. This PA was controlled by the central communications computer, which could be remotely accessed from Robotropolis's Master Control Center. _So all I have to do is slip into Master Control unnoticed in the middle of an operation big enough to have Task Force E.G.G. docked at the capitol, tap into the communications network of a base on the other side of the planet while Robotnik stands there in the room with me, and issue a verbal warning to a known rebel who has no idea who I am, thereby declassifying a classified project, and somehow make him believe the warning. Once all that's done, phase two is a matter of getting out alive… Right. That should be simple enough. "Well, time to get to work."_

* * *

_Well_, Sally gave a mirthless chuckle as she threw herself to the ground behind a rusted old dumpster just in time to avoid a volley from the blaster carbines of a four unit SWATbot patrol. _At least it's not so unnervingly quiet anymore._ Her thoughts were interrupted by the clattering sound of plasma rounds impacting on the other side of the dumpster as the SWATbots followed their target, forcing her to pull herself up to a crouch and seek a new hiding place, and quickly. A momentary glance revealed a hole through the nearby brick wall of a building that still bore the royal seal of House Acorn over its windows. It wasn't far, maybe twenty yards, and since it was in the opposite direction from the SWATbots, the dumpster would provide cover the entire way. "It's worth a shot," she assured herself and started to make a run for it. She became aware of a burning sensation in her left knee after the first few steps and decided she must have skinned it against the duracrete during her dive, but there was no time to worry about that now. Her only concern at the moment was reaching the momentary safety of having a brick wall between her and the SWATbots. After that, she would have to risk a comm signal to Sonic to let him know they were pinned down and needed help.

_Wait a minute,_ Sally realized with four yards to go. _We? There's no one else here. I must have gotten separated somehow._ The thought gave her yet another reason to be afraid. Being alone in Robotnik's 'Brave New World' was never safe, but here in Robotropolis it was tantamount to a death sentence.

There was an explosion of some kind behind her, a force more felt than heard, and Sally once again found herself face down on the duracrete. The burning whine in her knee grew to a shriek that she felt certain she could measure on a seismometer for an agonizing instant as her weight came down on top of it. "Come on, Sally," she urged herself through gritted teeth. "Get up and move it!"

_"Halt!" _A SWATbot voice said from directly over her, and Sally froze. Unsure whether she wanted to see how close the command had come from, she forced herself to slowly lift her head. When she did, she found herself looking directly into the crimson optical lenses of a SWATbot. _"Roboticization is unavoidable, rebel,"_ the droid said in that chillingly self-assured bass monotone that all SWATbots possessed. _"It is pointless to resist."_ Then, just to make sure its point was made, it pressed the muzzle of its blaster carbine into the small of Sally's back, causing her to wince as she was pressed against the duracrete for the third time in as many minutes.

_So this is how the Acorn dynasty ends,_ Sally mused as she heard the noise of three sets of metallic feet moving to join the SWAtbot who stood over her. _My family built this city from the foundation upward, and I end up waiting for the roboticizer, cringing at the feet of some SWATbot Sergeant that just got lucky enough to catch me alone?_

_"On your feet, rebel scum,_" one of the SWATbots brought her back to reality by clouting her between the shoulder blades with the stock of his rifle. When she did not respond quickly enough, the droid turned the weapon around and pressed the electro-bayonet against the back of her thigh. Sally screamed, in spite of her best efforts otherwise, as the electrical current locked up her motor functions. Finally, after what seemed like hours (though Sally would later learn it had been only a five second burst), the SWATbot withdrew the bayonet. The pain, at least the pain from the shock, went away immediately. _"Further noncompliance will only result in more painful disciplinary measures," _The SWATbot with the electro-bayonet was kind enough to inform her. _"Now move."_

"I can't," Sally tried to say, but her tongue refused to move. Somewhere between the burning in her left knee, the pinching throb in her back from the blaster muzzle, the bruise between her shoulders from a rifle stock, and the dull ache of tightened muscles in her thigh from the electro-bayonet, she had lost her breath. Now, her voice came out in choked and gasping spurts. After several failed attempts to haul herself to her feet, she felt as though her scalp was on fire as one of the four SWATbots grabbed her by the locks of her hair and dragged her up.

_"Corporal,_" the SWATbot with the bayonet on its rifle said to one of his subordinates. _"Since it doesn't want to use its legs, break them. They can be replaced with treads once it is roboticized."_

One of the three other SWATbots (Sally thought it was probably the one that had pressed her to the ground with the muzzle of its rifle, but she couldn't be sure) clipped its weapon onto a set of rings on its chestplate to free its hands. Once that was done, it took Sally's right leg in both of its hands, one above the knee and one below. Aside from the coldness of its durasteel hands, Sally could feel the power of its hydraulic-driven grip. _Oh gods,_ the thought ran unbidden through Sally's mind, bringing a wracking sob with it. _This is going to hurt like Hell._ She closed her eyes so tightly that colored spots began to float before her sight, and gritted her teeth against the impending agony. Would it be as simple as a single, resounding "crack," she found herself wondering absurdly, or a multilateral series of crunching sounds as the bone splintered into fragments? Either way, as time seemed to slow to a standstill while she waited, she wished for it to simply happen and be done with. The waiting, it seemed, scared her more than the thought of what she was waiting for.

There was then an explosive _crunch_, and Sally unleashed a bestial shriek of agony that was less a person's scream and more the valkyrie wail of an animal being gutted alive. So loud was her scream that she, perhaps mercifully, barely heard the snapping sounds that followed. A fractional second later, she felt the SWATbot's grip release and she fell, face up this time, landing as more a battered, used-up pile of Mobian flesh than anything else. _The nerves must have severed with the bone,_ she tormented herself with an imagined play-by-play of what was being done to her. _It must have, because I don't even feel any pain anymore. Gods, it sounded like metal. It sounded like someone twisting sheet metal until it breaks. Prophetic I guess._

For a time she could not measure, there was silence. Then Sally felt her shoulders and head being lifted up. _Surprisingly gentle, given that they're carrying me off to the Roboticizer._ She heard as if through a fog, a voice, and guessed it to be one of her SWATbot captors giving further instructions, though to her or one of its fellows she could not be sure. It was several moments before she was able to make out the words.

"-gotta talk to me. Sal, say somtehin'."

_It's Sonic_, Sally realized with a gasp that wasn't from the pain. She forced her eyes to open, and waited for the prismatic spots to fade from the lens of her vision. Where there had, moments before, been only the hellfire-red optics of a SWATbot patrol, there was now only a single pair of eyes. Organic eyes. Natural eyes, as green and bright as the lush canopy of leaves over Knothole during the Red Sun's summer. _And probably twice as beautiful_, she thought with an exhausted smile. From somewhere nearby there was a whining _bzzt_ sound from the remains of a SWATbot's positronic net. _The SWATbots_, Sally felt herself jarred momentarily back to mental focus. The effect lasted mere milliseconds, just long enough for her eyes to register the utterly devastated scraps of a four-unit SWAtbot patrol lying in pieces, and those scattered about with seemingly vicious abandon. Somewhere, in a waiting room in the back of her mind where thoughts appear that will not be fully registered until later, the truth began to form. The reason she couldn't feel the pain from her broken legs was that they weren't broken. Those horrifying sounds, which she had thought reminiscent of metal being bent and shattered, were just that. Somehow, at the moment when the SWATbot was about to leave her an invalid for the rest of her short life as a living being instead of an automaton, Sonic had come to her rescue, falling upon her tormentors like the wrath of Hell itself. _Or of Heaven itself. I've seen a miracle today, and the name of that miracle is…_ "S… sonic…" she moaned.

"Shh. Don't try to talk, Sal," Sonic interrupted, sounding like a man who hides desperation under a paper-thin skin of semi-calm. "Save your strength. Everything's gonna be cool. You hear me? Just save your strength."

_A minute ago, it was 'Sal, say something,' and when I do he shushes me._ Whether it was at the seemingly contradictory nature of Sonic's gestures of concern, or the absurdity of noticing such a thing at a time like this, Sally giggled uncontrollably. And the giggling did not stop until she fainted.

* * *

As Sally's eyes glazed over and she went limp, Sonic's first thought was that he was going to bring the city crumbling to the ground, ancestral home or not, captured family or not, to make Robotnik pay for taking her from him. His second, which came immediately on the heels of that one, kicking it aside like an unwanted beggar, was that he was being foolish and should check for vital signs. He was not occupied long in this. Conscious or not, Sally was still breathing in long, heavy breaths which were easily seen. _Alright, she's alive. Now what do I do about keeping her that way?_

He nearly missed the approach of heavy metallic feet. Not until they were mere meters away did he take notice of the sound, spin around to face his new attacker…

…and nearly take Bunnie's head off.

"Whoa, there, sugah-hog," Bunnie panted spastically. "It's me, it's me."

"Yeah, it's you," came Sonic's babbling reply. "Sorry. I… I, well it's-" He was about to say 'it's Sally' when Bunnie noticed the squirrel's unconscious body, lying behind where Sonic stood.

"Oh my stars," Bunnie was at her princess's side in an instant, pushing Sonic aside as though he were a rag doll. "What happened?"

"I was gonna ask you the same thing," Sonic said, still having the presence of mind to wince a little at the accusatory tone in his own voice. "I barely got here in time to stop a 'bot patrol from…" he found he couldn't bring himself to finish. "Bunnie, what the blue Hell was she doin' alone?"

"We got ambushed," Bunnie explained. "Some kind of… think it's safe to move her?"

"Sure ain't safe not to. Ambushed by what?"

"Not sure," Bunnie went on, lifting Sally up with her mechanical arm about her waist and draping Sally's limp arm across her own shoulders. "They weren't SWATbots though. Least not all of 'em. Might o' been these 'badniks' you and Tails have-" frozen solid at the self-driven reminder, she looked around. "Where's Tails?"

Sonic mentally kicked himself for not realizing the fox cub's absence sooner. He was so unaccustomed to Tails only accompanying him on unauthorized missions that his absence from the regular combat unit escaped Sonic's notice.

"He, he was," Bunnie sputtered, trying to force herself to think where the child could have been. "He was right above us when we got ambushed. That was in sector… but come to think of it, the last we'd heard from him was…" Her eyes, in their erratic dash about her surroundings in search of Tails, finally fell on Sonic's eyes. There was a look in them that chilled her, a kind of flinty blend of broken resignation and determination, as though his optic nerves had formed an alloy of steel and posterboard. That look stopped her incoherent speech short.

Sonic, meanwhile, had taken quick stock of the situation. In truth, Tails was the factor that worried him the least. After all, he and Tails had gotten separated during their various romps through Robotnik-controlled territory before, even here in Robotropolis on a one occasion, and the fox knew how to look after himself well enough until Sonic could find him again… he hoped. In the meantime, Sally was unconscious, and Bunnie could fight _or_ carry her, but Sonic doubted she could do both. There was only one option, and from the look on Bunnie's face, she had begun to suspect what it was.

"Sonic," Bunnie spoke apprehensively. "With Sally… out of it, you're in charge, but we're not abortin' the mission are we?"

"No." Sonic answered calmly.

"Okay."

"_We_ aren't. _You_ are."

"What?!"

Sonic's voice grew more intense as he explained. "Tails is missing, Sally's down, and Botnik's all over us. The mission's a failure, Bunnie. Now you take Sally and beat feet back to Knothole. I'll find Tails, and then we'll be right behind you."

"But the Ancient Ones-"

"There's nothing for it, Bunnie. We'll have to find another way. We can't do a snatch-and-grab with Task Force E.G.G. all home for the holidays. Go!"

Bunnie stood still, staring at Sonic as though trying to find a whole in his argument. In the end, there was none. "Watch yer caboose, Sugah-hog," she ventured, and shifted Sally's weight a bit more securely onto her shoulders. That was when something fell out of Sally's vest pocket and rolled toward Sonic's feet. It was something Sally had brought for the mission on a hunch, and forgotten about. She had not even realized that it's weight, swinging around in her subsequently-uneven vest, had struck her left kneecap during her flight from the SWATbot patrol, causing the injury she had believed to be an abrasion with the concrete.

It was a fragmentation grenade.

For a sharp second Bunnie and Sonic's breath each caught in their throat, convinced that after all the close calls and daring raids, this sheer accident was the end for them. By sheer fortune, though, the grenade rolled with the pin facing toward Sonic's eyes, and he was able to see that it had not been pulled, nor had the clip on the spoon-handle been thumbed. The monster, it seemed, was asleep.

"That's my girl, Sal," Sonic whispered affectionately to the unconscious squirrel as he picked up the grenade and deposited it in his backpack.

"Sonic," bunnie cautioned, "that thing's been hit, and it could go off any time."

"Well," Sonic said with a shrug, "that's a risk I'll have to take. Now get movin' Bunnie. This place is about to get as ugly as Eggbot's mother-in-law at two in the morning." Bunnie nodded once and was off, in the direction of the sewers and the safest passage outside the city walls. Sonic watched long enough to see that the girls had made it underground, and turned back toward the Command Center. "Tails knows that's where we're headed. So whether he's trying to finish the mission or just looking to link back up with the gang, that's where he'd head, so that's where I'll go. Well then," He stretched his legs briefly to prepare for the dash that was ahead. "Jelly 'n' Jam time!"

* * *

Isaac had a habit of pacing.

That was one thing he remembered his family telling him all those years ago, when the Ketsuna Race still lived in relative peace, before the coming of the Second Dark Lord, Solaur. But for just over a decade now, he'd been unable to pace. After all, when you're a bird, too much walking is really hard on your legs. That was obviously why evolution had seen fit to give them wings. But now, in a shadowy and deserted corner of Robotropolis, as he grew accustomed to his natural fox-ish form again, he had already lapsed into his former habit. And pace he did, in circles around Merlin Prower to the point where even the Elder's considerable patience had practically run out. "Isaac, calm yourself."

"I'm trying, Elder," Isaac whined.

"Yes, you're very trying," Merlin quipped. "And that infernal pacing is half the reason why. Now stop."

Isaac stopped pacing and sighed. "Forgive me, Elder. I just still don't see why we're not doing something more than we're doing. We're right here in the city where Orana and Solyurus are being held, another of our race has walked into the city unwittingly and he's in danger as well, and we're doing nothing? Why don't we storm the command Center ourselves?"

"You know my ruling about interference in the affairs of the Younger Races," Merlin insisted. "You've already complicated matters a bit, young one, by revealing yourself to the Doctor."

Isaac winced at the reminder of his near defeat at the hands of an army of Human constructs. "I know, Elder," he said sourly, but then his face brightened. "But you're stronger than I am."

"And, more importantly, wiser, and my word will stand."

Faced with this, the final word on the matter, Isaac could say no more. As much as he would have liked to charge, side-by-side with his elder, into the Machine City and unleash the same fury that imprisoned the Chae-Dan, Merlin Prower was the oldest surviving Ketsuna, and the only one old enough to have seen the Chae-Dan war. With nothing more to offer, he decided to change the subject. "Why do you think the Doctor wants to go to Chae-Dan anyway?"

"Urth, according to the Human tongue," Merlin corrected. "And the reason is simple. He's going after Excalibur."

Isaac's eyebrows wrinkled at that. "Going after who?"

Merlin proceeded. "Or rather, as it was pronounced by its first bearer on the world where it was forged, _Eshca-Leboor_."

That pronunciation was one Isaac recognized, and it prompted a hearty belly-laugh. "Oh, that's rich! Robotnik?! He thinks_ he_ can wield Escha-Leboor? It'll never accept him."

"Quite the contrary. He's one of the few on Mobius that it would accept."

That brought Isaac's laughter to a screeching halt. "What? But… that blade only accepts-"

"Robotnik is descended from Mordred, who we thought to have died in Camelot on Urth," Merlin explained.

Isaac only shook his head in confusion. "Elder, I'll grant you that I'm shocked, but I still don't-"

"Put it together, Isaac. Think about Mordred's bloodline."

Isaac pondered. "Well he was the son of Arthur, son of Uther, who was descended from Pendragon," his eyes began to grow wider as he went on, "who was the elder son of Ambrosius, the Hero who came to Chae-Dan! Elder, this means…"

"Nicely done, Isaac," Merlin replied calmly. "Although in all truth, you should have realized your error as soon as you considered that Mordred was the son of Arthur. And yes, it means what you fear. Though he's not the most direct descendant, Ivo Robotnik is a legitimate heir to the sword of Link Ambrosius."

"All the more reason why we should stop him!" Isaac interjected. "Elder, he cannot be allowed to complete this gateway on Angel Island! If he does-"

"He must be allowed to complete it," Merlin interrupted, "for reasons far greater than you realize."

"I don't understand, Elder."

I'm beginning to see if that weren't such a reliable constant in the universe, you'd have my job," Merlin retorted, sighed, and started more quietly. "His gateway will reach Urth… I'm sorry. _Earth_," he said, pronouncing the vowel a bit more widely. "I can assure you of that. And it will target the right century as well," he turned toward Isaac, "unless someone takes steps to ensure otherwise."

Now Isaac began to glimpse what Merlin had in mind, but only a glimmer of it. "You have a specific year in mind that you want Robotnik to appear on…" he struggled with the vowel pronunciation, "Earth, don't you?"

"More importantly, I have a specific event in mind I want him to arrive in time for."

Somewhere in a crowded auditorium in the back of Isaac's mind where countless possible explanations were assembled quietly, one in the back began to jump up and down and shout 'Pick me! Pick me!' "What kind of event?" he asked, realizing as he said it how dense he sounded.

"Knowing what you now do of Robotnik's ancestry, take a guess," Merlin answered cryptically.

Isaac sighed. Everything with Elder Prower was this way. He never gave answers. He just dropped hints, and you had to piece together the answers for yourself. "Well, something only a descendant of Ambrosius can handle, but…

(Pick me! Pick Me!)

"But Elder, you've always claimed that the bloodline of Ambrosius has only one purpose."

Merlin cocked an eyebrow in Isaac's direction. "And…?"

"And that purpose was the fight against the vessels of Bao-"

"Don't speak his name, Isaac."

"Of course, Elder. The vessels of the so-called 'shadow King,' then. Ambrosius' bloodline exists for the purpose of seeing those vessels destroyed."

"Not just the vessels, Isaac. The Shadow King himself."

The answer in the back of Isaac's mental auditorium began to frantically swing from the chandeliers, begging for his attention. "But that would mean…" (The chair recognizes the maniac in the back row! But please, sir, restrain yourself!) Suddenly, it became clear to Isaac. "The Vanguard War!"

Merlin nodded. "Bingo, as they say."

Pieces began to fling themselves together in Isaac's mind as though a jigsaw puzzle had developed performance anxiety. "But sending Robotnik there? I mean, with his bloodline and all, and his power is obvious, but… well, won't he betray the Vanguard? I mean, you see that he can't be trusted."

"He'll betray anyone he feels he can advance himself by betraying," Merlin said after a long silence. "but whatever comes, I think Robotnik is to be a key factor in the War's outcome. Also, it's imperative that Sonic, and probably the Guardian too, now that I think about it, go through as well."

"Counterweight," Isaac commented. "Then you think Robotnik is indeed going to be one of the Five."

Merlin Prower narrowed his eyes as he looked off toward the Command Center. "I'm counting on it, Isaac."

It only took a moment for Isaac to understand what his Elder had in mind. "But what if you're wrong, Elder?"

Merlin's eyes went dark for an instant. "War against the universe's original evil is a risky affair, Isaac," he said callously.

All Isaac could think of to say in response was a muttered, "I'll bet it is."


	11. Chapter Nine

**From the Author: Well, this chapter certainly took long enough (the better part of two months), and nearly the entire chapter was written in the past two weeks. Gotta love writer's block, but at least working on something else for a while worked. Anyway, I hope you don't mind the length of this chapter (It rapidly approaches the ten thousand word average length of a Southern Cross Dream Chapter). I did consider breaking it into two chapters, but since there was a running theme of "sacrifices for the good of the mission" running throughout it, I decided to leave it together. And for those of you who are wondering, we'll get back to Knuckles and Snively next chapter, complete with Knuckles' still-present (but signifigantly downplayed) Outback accent. Enjoy.**

Chapter Nine:  
For the Good of the Mission

_Sometimes at night, I can still hear the screams._

_I relive that day in my nightmares, and I hear him screaming for us, for me, to help him. And every time I pray that I won't do the same thing I've done before, but every time I do, and always for the same reason. But that reason never gives any comfort, and I wake up to find that I'm the one screaming._

_His name was Felix Catski. He was one of the original group, the first seven of us who decided to stop being refugees and become Freedom Fighters. The Mission Team was me, Sonic, Bunnie, and Felix. The mission had gone well, for the most part. We had infiltrated Robotropolis' main industrial stronghold, and the explosive had been placed in the reactor. The only thing left was to get out._

_And that's where everything went wrong._

_It happened so fast, and I was so unaccustomed to combat then, I can't describe everything in detail. All I remember is that the fire escape area was deserted one minute, and was a labyrinth of laserfire the next. We were pinned down, not even Sonic could move quickly enough to go anywhere, and SWATbots were closing in. It was Bunnie who came up with a solution. If someone could get back up the fire escape ladder and enter the reactor room, that person would be enough of a threat that the SWATbots would have to abandon the rest of us to pursue that one. We all agreed it was a good idea, but we all knew something else. It was a suicide mission. Whoever charged back up that ladder was charging to death, or roboticization, depending on what mood the SWATbot control core was in._

_I don't know what my judging criteria were. My memory of that day is so hazy that I just can't force myself to remember. Whatever my reasons, I ordered Felix to go._

_And he went. Without a single word of protest._

_The SWATbots performed their part perfectly, abandoning their offensive to pursue the greater threat, giving the other three of us a chance to escape. We made it almost to the stronghold perimeter before I heard him screaming my name. Sonic's name. Bunnie's name. Screaming, shrieking, crying out for anyone to come back and save him. But no one did. Felix had done his duty so the rest of us could escape, and escape we did. To their credit, neither Sonic nor Bunnie cried until we got back to Knothole._

_I never learned what fate befell Felix, whether he was gunned down, or condemned to spending his remaining years as a will-less drone, devoid of individuality. What I did learn that day was a harsh lesson. That was the day I learned that sometimes you have to order a friend to their death so that the mission can succeed._

_The next day, I turned seven years old. _

_Is it any wonder that birthdays have been a bitter occasion for me ever since?_

-From the personal journals of Princess Sally Acorn

* * *

Mission failed. Team Leader wounded. Team retreating with two team members still behind enemy lines, one presumed captured. The Freedom Fighters had been in situations that bore less promising reports. But as she trudged through the underworld of Robotropolis' sewers, mostly carrying the weight of her barely conscious leader, Bunnie was damned if she could think of when. "Ah just wanna know one thing," Bunnie fumed at no one in particular. "Just where the hell did we lose control o' the situation?"

"We never… never had control," Sally replied between labored breaths. "We were in… over our heads from… from the beginning."

Bunnie gave neither agreement nor argument. Instead, the two girls plodded along, Sally favoring her leg that had been struck by the grenade in her vest. Whenever she took a step with her weak leg, Bunnie took a step with the leg closest to her for support. _We look like a three-legged race at a P.O.W. camp,_ Bunnie thought, and was angry at herself for snickering at the analogy.

"What… what's so funny?" Sally questioned, hearing the snicker.

"Nothin' at all, Sally-girl. Nothin'at all."

Sally sighed defeatedly. "You've got that one right." She winced in pain as she stepped with her weak leg into an unseen hole.

"You alright, Sally?" Bunnie whispered, clutching sally under both arms to keep her from falling.

Eyes still shut, teeth still clenched, Sally nodded. "I'm fine," she whimpered.

"Like Hell you are," Bunnie countered, seeing the look of pain on the squirrel's face. "Here, you sit down and rest that leg fer a spell."

Sally shook her head vehemently. "No time," she insisted. "SWATbots will be all over this sector, and-"

"They'll be all over this sector a lot quicker if you push that leg too hard and end up screaming every step," Bunnie interrupted. "Now no buts, princess. The only 'but' I wanna hear is you sittin' your butt down. We won't take long: just long enough for you to take a load off o' that leg."

Sally would have preferred to argue, but in her condition, she was by default constrained to go where her would-be Lady-in-Waiting led her. So, on a rusted outcropping of long-unused pipe that once carried hot water to one of Mobitropolis' upper-scale districts, she sat. Bunnie sat next to her. Once the pain in her leg returned from Hellish to simply excruciating, her mind began to embrace the larger aspects of her present situation. "So Sonic's gone back into Robotropolis, alone… again."

Bunnie nodded gravely. "Yup."

"And you're okay with that?"

Bunnie cocked an eyebrow at the question. "Now hold on just a minute, Sally. You know as well as I do that he's the second-in-command. And with you out for the count-"

"You're right," Sally interrupted. "As usual, you're right. It's not you I should be mad at." She paused to let out a long and tired exhale. "I just," she clenched her fists. "I just wish he'd _think_ once in a while! That's all."

Bunnie waited until she was sure Sally had finished venting, and then responded. "To tell you the truth, Sally-girl, I think he was thinking."

Sally scoffed. "How so? Charging headlong into Robotropolis alone while ordering us to retreat is your idea of thinking?"

Enduring the mild ridicule, Bunnie continued. "He was thinkin' that everyone he cared about was in trouble, and he had to get them out. That's why he didn't let you stay. But he couldn't leave Sugah-fox. Shorely you know that."

Sally swallowed a sob before it could explode into a round of bawling. _Do you think Sonic's the only one who cared about Tails? Is that what you think? …Is that what Sonic thinks?_ "Tails is a commissioned Freedom Fighter," Sally forced herself to say, nearly choking on the heartlessness of words she wished weren't true. "He knew the risks. But now, because of Sonic's impulsiveness, instead of having one Freedom Fighter caught behind enemy lines we have two. We all abort, or we all drive on, but the mission comes first. That's the way it's always been."

Bunnie said nothing. There was nothing to be said. Either Sally was right, or she wasn't. Or perhaps neither was true. Regardless, it didn't matter. What mattered, at that moment, was getting out of Robotropolis. _Speaking of which…_ "Well, we'd best get a move on, Sally-girl." Standing up, she slipped her mechanical arm under Sally's arms for support once more. "Up ya go."

"Up I go," Sally agreed, rising tentatively to her feet, testing the leg with the injured knee. "At least the SWATbot didn't break them like he said he was going to."

"You mean like IT said IT was going to, Sal," Bunnie corrected, her voice armed with a dangerous edge not directed at Sally. "Mah stars, y'just never get used to hearin' 'em talk like that. They just don't get that those are people they're talkin' about. Not just raw materials."

"They don't see it that way, Bunnie," Sally answered, ending the discussion. With that, the girls were on their way again to the city's edge through the slow and harrowing sewers. "You know, Bunnie," Sally suggested ten minutes and barely a hundred grueling meters later, "the surface would be a lot fast-"

Bunnie's reply seemed pre-recorded. "Like hell, Sal. SWATbots'd be on us like city boys on a farmer's daughter, and yore in no shape to run."

Sally groaned. "Why can't you stop being right?"

"Someone's gotta give you a break from it every now and again," Bunnie answered. "But hey, don't get sore at me. Yore the one always sayin' 'the safe way is the slow way.' Remember?"

Bunnie saw Sally's mouth move in reply, but her words were obscured by a sound like the gates of Hell being blown off of their hinges.

"Now what?" Bunnie snarled, releasing her grip on Sally to bring her mechanized arm up to a ready stance.

From somewhere ahead of them, lost amid the barely breathable haze of Robotropolis' catacombs, came a radiance unlike anything Bunnie had seen. It was not so much a light as it was the specter of a light, yet still it forced both of the Freedom Fighters to squint their eyes as they beheld it. It seemed as though the ghost of some long-forgotten sun-god had deigned to haunt the sewers, no longer being welcome in the sky over the city.

"The hell…?" Bunnie murmured.

"Wouldn't surprise me after a day like this," Sally quipped. As they spoke, the light grew brighter. _No. Not brighter, _Sally realized_. Closer._ "Bunnie, let's find another-"

"Yeah. Movin'." Bunnie's steely limb was underneath Sally's shoulders again in a heartbeat, and the two had almost managed to turn around when the light flared once to a level that Sally felt certain would shine straight through the duracrete over their heads and alert all the Roboropolitan Empire to their presence. Then, with no ceremony, it was gone, leaving Bunnie and Sally struggling to readjust their eyesight. "Sally-girl," Bunnie whispered. "What's goin' on?"

"Not a clue," was Sally's awestruck response.

"Forgive the intrusion, ladies," came a voice paradoxically otherworldly and familiar. From the sound, it came from nearby, but through the haze and the rapidly changing light, neither could see the source of the voice. "But I'm here to take you back to your… 'Knothole' I believe is what you call it."

"Who are you?" the girls demanded in unison.

"I'm called Merlin," the voice responded. "Let that suffice for now." Before either of the girls could respond or object their was a rush of air, and with it a fragrance of…

_…Pine needles?_ Sally had time to think before she was forced to squint again to block out the sun overhead. _The sun? What's happened?!_

"Try to relax," spoke a second voice, seemingly younger than the first. "You're back home."

Unbelievably, Sally's eyesight returned to find the statement true. She was indeed in Knothole Village, on the banks of Power Ring Lake, and Bunnie stood beside her. In front of her were two figures, both foxes. One was gray with striking, wayward locks of white topfur atop his head, and looked only a few years her senior. His eyes had the look of jet, and would have terrified her if they had not been framed in a look of such determined concern. His tail swayed lazily behind him in the barely detectable breeze. His countenance bore a look not unlike the one she'd seen in the mirror countless times: the battered-but-not-broken solidity of royalty in exile.

Despite his air of command, the gray fox seemed overshadowed by the taller figure standing beside him. He was orange, not that different in shade from Tails. A look at the deep set lines in his face spoke of past trials, but the weariness of his face did not assail his cobalt eyes, which took in his surroundings with casual concern. 'Let hardship come,' those eyes seemed to say. 'It's been here before, and I live still.' In Human fashion, he wore clothing. Specifically, a faded robe with a rope about the waist. The back of the robe had an opening to make room for his tails…

…of which there were nine.

As the oddity of this struck Sally, it struck her again that this was, somehow, someone she should know. She had not the time to ponder this, however. As rapidly as it had faded into focus, the world was fading back into oblivion. Her temples pounded, and her vision began to drown in an ocean of crimson.

"Sally!" She heard Bunnie shriek.

"Elder, is she-" it was the second voice she'd heard.

"It's the stress from the 'Port," the familiar voice responded.

"She's losing it." The second voice.

"Probably for the best." The familiar one. "She needs sleep after-" Sally never heard what she needed sleep after. But sleep she did. For several days.

* * *

Point five eight eight seconds or less.

That was the target acquisition window for which a standard security SWATbot's thermo-optic tactical sensors were rated, so long as the perceived target was within thirteen hundred meters. Point five eight eight seconds to detect, lock, and fire. Point two seven seconds or less was the time it took for a droid equipped with such a processor to achieve a ninety nine percent secure weapons-lock on said target. An additional point three one eight seconds was the average time necessary for the droid's arm to maneuver a standard blaster carbine into position to fire at its target, assuming adequate maintenance on said appendage. Taken together, this meant SWATbot 667-5309-504-AE could be expected to achieve a ninety nine percent hit rate on any target within point five eight eight seconds of the target of the target entering that radius, allowing, of course for a point zero five second variable between one SWATbot and another.

This day, however, SWATbot 667-5309-504-AE would learn all too late that he suffered from a critical design flaw.

A target was approaching, at impossible speed. The target was approaching from outside the thirteen hundred meter radius of 504-AE's thermo-optic imagers. As such, the droid was unaware of its existence. For the moment at least. Then, the target entered 504-AE's thirteen hundred meter radius. Its heat and radar signatures were compared against an internal database of trillions of possible hostiles, resulting in a ninety-nine point nine percent probability that the target was '_hedgehog: priority one._' True to assembly line specifications, the SWATbot achieved a weapon lock in exactly point two five seconds and began to raise its weapon to fire. Within point three one eight seconds, 504-AE would have neutralized the target. Therein lay the design flaw.

Because unfortunately for 504-AE, a Power Ring enabled Sonic to close the thirteen hundred meter distance between himself and his would-be assassin in point two eight seconds. Milliseconds later, SWATbot 667-5309-504-AE was a series of barely recognizable shards of twisted titanium, scattered in a cone-shaped pattern between his last recorded position and the city's Command Center. Had his auditory sensors maintained their connection with his CPU for an additional two seconds, he might have detected the words, "no time to play, slow-moe."

By the time the point five eight eight second window expired, Sonic was already on an unavoidable collision course with the durasteel blast-door of Robotropolis's command Center, and he was still increasing in velocity. Nor did he intend to slow down. Indeed, any attempt to avoid the mach speed collision would, at this point, be futile. His intention, quite the contrary, was to increase speed as much as possible and hit the door with the maximum force his body could muster. His mind, like his feet, raced. The world faded into slow motion around him, as it always did when he ran. It was to this, his mind's ability to keep up with his feet, that he credited his repeated survival. This time, however, even he was cutting it close. "Only gonna get one chance," he muttered to himself as he approached the door. Measuring distances with his eye, he waited for the opportune moment to change his manner of movement. Once he was sure it had come, his legs immediately stopped propelling him forward and bent, simultaneously, as he rolled into a fetal position, extending his spines fully outward to their maximum length in every direction. Immediately, he felt the painful drag created by this sudden change in the aerodynamics of his body. But physics were not completely against him, for at such speeds, the forward rotation caused his body to flatten out toward its axis of rotation; his spines, formerly pointing in every conceivable direction, all began to point away from that axis. The result was that rather than a cannon-fired pincushion, his body soon transformed itself into something not unlike a blue buzzsaw.

At a speed that would have enabled him to circle the building three times before the doors could have slid open (had they any intention of doing so), this buzzsaw sliced its way into the blast-door, throwing off a misty, white-hot rain of liquid metal that would later cool into a fine metallic dust. Heat from friction with the metal pressed Sonic from every direction as he wound himself as tightly around his axial line as possible, surviving only by virtue of the heat being blown away from his rapidly spinning body as quickly as it was generated. He willed himself not to make any movements other than those imposed by inertia, unwilling to sacrifice the momentum that would enable him to carve through the blast door. Finally, when he felt certain he would boil in the heat of his own passage through the metal, he felt the resistance in front of him beginning to diminish, the air beginning to cool. Opening his eyes and turning his head ever so slightly, creating as little drag as possible, he saw that he was on the other side of the door.

He relaxed, uncurling his body and stopping his inertial rotation, landing in a crouch as his feet rolled over in front of him to catch the ground. With practiced precision, he prevented himself from falling forward and landing on his face. There was no dizziness, no nausea. His eyes adjusted to the fluorescent lighting, as well as the abrupt change in motion with a delay so miniscule only one of Robotropolis's finest supercomputers could have measured it. He had, after, all, executed this maneuver hundreds of times before. _Just not right through a meter of durasteel,_ he reminded himself, shaking his spines rapidly to shed any remaining particles of molten metal before they could do any more harm than they already had (and he didn't want to think what damage that had been).

The click of a SWATbot's blaster carbine being extracted from its internal storage hangar caught the hedgehog's attention. Reflexes honed by the years-long mix of supersonic travel and combat triggered his movement toward the source of the sound, and Sonic dashed between the waiting legs of a hitherto unseen SWATbot. The droid spun around to pursue, but it was unequal to the task of matching pace with its opponent, and Sonic clutched it by the arm and spun it off balance with its own momentum, sending it clattering to the floor, shattering the fragile emitter housing of its weapon. Sonic wasted no time in celebrating. The robot would, after all, rise as soon as its internal stabilizers caught up. With a flicker of motion and a few streaks of barely-discernible blue light, Sonic went the last direction the SWATbot would check: up. A ceiling grate leading into the ventilation system shattered, raining shards of ceramic duraplast onto the transmetal floor. By the time nearly four seconds later, when the SWATbot's CPU came to the conclusion that its quarry had escaped into the duct, Sonic was no longer on the same floor. Instantly, the message _"Priority One has entered Sector Zero Zero One Alpha"_ was relayed from the SWATbot's internal modem to its Battalion Control Core. Nanoseconds later, alert klaxons began to sound throughout the Command Center. The klaxons served little practical purpose for the security forces. They became aware of all information pertaining to the breach of security as soon as the SWATbot's signal reached the Core. But Robotnik had discovered that the lights and sounds of a city on high alert had a tensing effect on the nerves of organic lifeforms, thus making them an excellent psychological weapon.

That weapon, however, failed today. Sonic's mind, after all, could only focus on a certain number of things at once, and the grating sounds and pulsing red luminescence of the building's alert status was one that his mind simply catalogued as "no time for right now." His first priority, as he alternated between an agonizingly slow crawl and a blindingly fast dash through the ventilation system, was to find and rescue the two captive Ancient Ones. His second was to rendezvous with Tails. But the latter was rapidly beginning to weigh more and more heavily on his mind.

He'd told Sally that Tails was able to look after himself in Robotropolis long enough for Sonic to find him, citing the fact that he'd done so before during the Death Egg's launch almost a year prior, even managing to steal a biplane from a decommissioned hangar in the process. It was what was necessary to get her to retreat from the city. And at the time, he'd meant it. Tails was, after all, more experienced in solo combat than any of the Freedom Fighters except Sonic. But the fact that Sonic had not seen any sign of Tails by now was not a good one, especially in light of the fact that Sonic was making so little effort to hide his own presence. If every SWATbot in the capitol knew where he was, shouldn't Tails have also known? Would the cub have been so foolish as to try and rescue the Ancient Ones alone, without waiting for Sonic? Sonic hoped against hope not.

And yet, he realized, the only other option was more grisly still, and that was that Tails had not met up with him because he couldn't. And that could mean…

"Dammit, Sonic, you don't have time to think like that," Sonic chided himself, running the risk of his voice attracting unnecessary attention. "You gotta get those Ancient Ones outta here and jelly 'n' jam back to Knothole. Which means first you gotta find those Ancient Ones. Now if I were Dr. Ivo No-Nuts-Nik, where would I hide a pair of captured fox-gods?"

_I don't know, _the answer became apparent upon hearing the question spoken. _But I'd start looking wherever the most SWATbots are._

"Now I'm talkin'," Sonic congratulated himself on his fine intellectual leap. "So now it's time to find a computer terminal for a little SWATbot Bingo."

* * *

_This was the worst possible time for this,_ an unnoticed Tekbot cursed silently as alert klaxons began to sound all around it. The thought would normally have been more independent than a Tekbot was capable of. This particular Tekbot, however, was not a Tekbot at all, but Sir Charles Hedgehog. _I made it all the way to Master Control undetected, and now the whole compound's on Red Alert. But why?_ A glance at the main display screen answered Charles' question. A recording from a SWATbot's optical scanner, captured only moments before, was being played on the screen. And the star of the feature was none other than Sonic. He was, it seemed, right inside the Command Center. "Blast it, Sonic, why now?"

If he'd had a tongue, Charles would have bitten it as he realized he'd been too loud. Robotnik, standing no more than four meters away, had heard the sound, and now glared about the room, eyes glowing as red as the alert lighting. "What was that sound?" He asked no one in particular.

Charles turned back to the computer terminal on which he'd been feverishly working to remotely tap into the Angel Island Launch Base's PA system to send a pre-recorded message to Knuckles. Silently praying that Robotnik would not, in his search for the noise, pay much attention to the work being done at his terminal, Charles manipulated his Tekbot shell's arms quickly in an attempt to look busy.

After a few moments of panic, Charles noticed Robotnik returning his eyes to the main display screen. He also heard the doctor mutter the words "you stay out of this one, old fool."

_Who in Acorn's name is he talking to?_ Charles wondered. He didn't have long to wonder, however, before Robotnik spoke again. "Not this time, hedgehog. Not this time." Turning to a Tekbot closer to him than Charles, Robotnik commanded "flood the ventilation system with chlorine gas, immediately!"

_Chlorine gas_, Charles thought with a shudder_. Of course. Kill the organics, leave the machines unharmed. Surprised he hasn't thought of it before. But how do I stop him?_

_…Got it. _Running a grave risk of being detected, Charles opened the head of his Tekbot disguise and extended his true hands, letting his fingers fly over the keyboard at a speed he could not have employed without the aid of the roboticizer. Hacking into the Command Center's security network using stolen passcodes, he relayed a directive to the SWATbot Battalion Control Core. **All units, converge on Main Lab. Priority One sighted attempting to compromise A.I. Project**_._ The message was sent to the Core, and immediately relayed to every SWATbot in the compound. More importantly, it was relayed to every display screen, catching Robotnik's attention.

"Belay that order," Robotnik commanded the Tekbot as he read the message on his screen, seeming to search it for hidden meaning. He stood that way for quite some time before finally speaking. "How, I wonder, did he get to the lab without being detected?"

* * *

"The only problem with computers," Sonic griped as he punched one key at a time on a terminal that seemed to have been long-unused, "is that I haven't got the foggiest clue how to use 'em."

**Access Denied**, the screen informed him in large, red letters for the third time.

Sonic gritted his teeth. "Oh, man, I don't have TIME for this!" The word 'time' was emphasized by the impact of his gloved fist on the screen of the terminal, as if simple pain could bend the computer to Sonic's will. Incredibly, it seemed to work.

**All units, converge on Main Lab. Priority One sighted attempting to compromise A.I. Project.** The screen displayed the message in flashing red type across a black screen. Sonic laughed. "Yeah, right, duncebots. The hedgehog is nowhere near the main lab. You guys go ahead and have your little convention. I'll just-" _start lookin' wherever the most SWATbots are!_ Sonic gasped audibly as he remembered his earlier strategy. "The SWATbots… ALL the SWATbots… The lab… the two Ancient Ones! Oh yeah, it's all comin' together. They know I'm goin' for the Ancient Ones, so they think they're gonna cut me off at the pass. And in the process, they let me know where the pass is. Well, if they're throwing me a surprise party it'd be a shame to disappoint them. Get ready, bot-brains, 'cause here comes trouble with a capital S."

* * *

With the problem of Sonic's well-being temporarily solved, Charles closed the head of his Tekbot disguise again and returned to the task of hacking into the Launch Base communications array, a task which had been difficult enough without the Command Center on alert status. As it stood now, Charles began to think it would be safer to withdraw and make another attempt when the Knothole Squad finished their mission.

"I don't see any sign of him anywhere near the lab," Robotnik mused, his presence slicing into Charles' thoughts as a clear reminder of his present danger. "Show me a three-dimensional thermal map of the Command Center," he ordered a nearby Tekbot.

_This is about to get ugly,_ Charles realized, beginning to make his way toward the exit.

_"It will take the computer several moments to compile the thermal data, Sir,"_ the Tekbot answered, keying the order into its control panel.

Robotnik growled. Patience had never been his greatest virtue, least of all where his own creations were concerned. "Just do it," he snapped.

_Not much time,_ Charles told himself. _Sonic will show up on a thermal map like a barnacle on a durasteel hull. If I'm still here when he realizes he's been lied to…"_ The thought remained unfinished as Charles reached the door, manipulated the Tekbot's awkward arm into place to press the "open" button…

…and heard the petulant honk of the door's access control system denying him his exit.

Charles cursed himself for the oversight. The doors of Master Control were programmed to lock during an alert, and would only open with a voice command and handprint identification from Robotnik himself. If he'd been seen, or heard…

"You! There!" Robotnik's voice fell upon his ears like a sentence of death.

_Maybe I can still salvage this,_ Charles lied to himself, swiveling around to face the Oval Overlord. "_Sir?_" He asked through the makeshift voice resequencer inside the Tekbot shell.

Robotnik stared at him through eyes squeezed paper-thin, saying nothing at first as he took slow and suspicious steps toward Charles, like a snake ensuring its bitten prey was indeed dead. Finally, he asked, "Just where were you attempting to go?"

"_Maintenance, sir_," Charles spat the first answer that came to mind. "_Processor error."_

"Is that so." It was a denial more than a question.

"_Sir_" the Tekbot working on the thermal image announced. _"The data you required is ready."_

"Put it on the main holo," Robotnik barked. Immediately, from a holo-projector in the center of Master Control emerged a shape that looked as though an egg had decided to grow a dark red endo-skeleton, peppered with flickering dots of brighter red. One of those, the brightest shade of red in the image, was moving at a speed of which it should not have been capable toward the Main Lab. It was, Robotnik noticed however, not in the lab's vicinity yet. Returning his gaze to Charles, Robotnik commanded yet another Tekbot. "Where did that all-points message originate?"

There was a moment in which the only sounds were the clicking of Tekbot fingers against keys, and the chattering of Charles' duraluminum teeth, followed by a report of, "_Master Control, station six, sir."_

Advancing further upon Charles, Robotnik demanded, "what's your registry, droid?"

"_TK-421-Alpha Rho-"_ Charles' response was cut off by a low-intensity laser blast to his suit's cranial plate, courtesy of Robotnik's carpal-implanted laser.

"The TK-400 series was decommissioned seven months ago," Robotnik spoke calmly. "Care to try again?"

Charles said nothing.

"Or shall we just cut to the chase, _Sir Charles Hedgehog_?"

There was a moment in which nothing moved. Then, in a flash of decision, the head of the Tekbot suit swung open and out leaped Sir Charles, his internal safety systems berating him for the strain of the jump. A second, more powerful shot from Robotnik's laser reduced the suit to a collection of burned and melted junk a split second too late, a split-second during which Charles dashed to the other side of the room toward his only perceived escape: a duct leading to, of course, the ventilation system.

"SWATbots," Robotnik called into a communicator hardwired into his forearm, "two squads to Master Control, immediately." Charles heard the sound of Robotnik pressing his hand against the handprint identification pad, followed by a calm, collected "authorization Robotnik, alpha four seven tango." He momentarily considered turning and attempting to blitz past the doctor while the door stood open for the incoming SWATbots, but his olfactory sensor dissuaded him by catching a hint of ozone in the air as Robotnik's laser narrowly missed him again.

_Gotta move quickly,_ Charles thought, coiling his steel arm for a hydraulic-assisted punch at the duct grate. He was sure he would only get one chance to break the duct if he attempted to continue to stay ahead of Robotnik's laser. As luck would have it, he did not even get that. With half a meter to go before reaching the duct, Charles felt his arms pinned behind him by a pair of SWATbots, their strength far surpassing his own. A moment later his internal safety systems screamed louder still at the angle in which he found his shoulders bent by the full-nelson hold as the SWATbots spun him around and marched him toward Robotnik and…

…_Tails!_ Charles gasped at the sight of the unconscious fox cub, lying in a crumpled heap at the feet of supremely satisfied looking Robotnik, flanked by two more SWATbots.

"Well, well, well," Robotnik gloated in a voice that contained a hint of the Eggman. "How very… convenient."

"_Your orders, Doctor Robotnik," _one of the flanking SWATbots asked.

"_That's a good question, Julian,_" Charles lashed out with his only remaining weapon: words. _"What are you planning to do? Because as soon as the kid wakes up, I'm pretty sure he and I put together can give you and this squad pure Hell."_

"Such bravado coming from a hostage," Robotnik gloated. "Really, Charles, you tried to escape once and it didn't work. And as for your vulpine friend… well, I really think you overestimate his chances."

"_As I recall he pretty thoroughly trashed your plan to nuke Station Square, and single-handedly at that. If I were in your shoes, I'd keep that in mind. But if you call for backup, there won't be enough SWATbots at the lab to stop Sonic from saving the Ancient Ones."_ The old hedgehog forced a grin and a wry chuckle. _"How convenient is the situation now?"_

Robotnik met Charles' eyes squarely, and Charles winced at the utter surety of victory he saw there.

And something else too.

As Robotnik's blazing red eyes bored into Charles' eyes, the mechanized monarch began to laugh. It was a chuckle like the one Charles had given at first, but it escalated into an open-throated, head-thrown-back roaring laugh that Charles felt sure could be heard all over the city. When Robotnik finally finished laughing he returned his gaze to Charles. "Let him free them, old man. He won't get far. In fact, that meddlesome nephew of yours will deliver them right back into my hands, _on his way to the roboticizer!"_ The final clause was said in a guttural scream that was more a hiss than a voice.

"_I wouldn't be so sure of that,_" Charles insisted, hoping he sounded more sure than he felt.

Robotnik grinned broadly, revealing his row of shimmering ceramic plasteel teeth as the two squads of SWATbots he'd called away from the main lab moments earlier entered Master Control, bringing the total number of SWATbots guarding Charles and Tails to nearly forty. "Charles, old friend," Robotnik crowed. "You forget one of the first rules of engineering. A seemingly immovable object is easily moved with the proper application of leverage."

* * *

Sonic's arrival in the Main Lab Walkway was the last event processed by the CPU's of more than a squad of SWATbots, as the same spinning trick that got him through the blast door reduced them to a fine metallic ash. After all, state-of-the-art though they may have been, at the end of the day mass production still proved to yield a cheap product. Two more pairs of SWATbots met their end at the points of each other's rifles as they focused a greater share of that state-of-the-art processing power on tracking their target than they did on watching their surroundings and shot each other as he passed between them. Sonic skidded to a halt behind a SWATbot whose chestplate bore the gold bar of a lieutenant, paused long enough to be seen by two more droids standing nearby, and vaulted into the air as they lunged at him, causing the lieutenant and two of his subordinates to clatter to the ground in a crumpled heap. Sonic landed on top of this heap from his jump and lashed out with his arm at the head of the SWATbot on the top of the pile. At the speed he moved his arm, the dome-shaped head quickly became a high-speed discus which bored its way into the abdominal weapons-hangar of another SWATbot officer, deactivating it and leaving a gaping tear straight through to its hydrogen fuel cell.

That was the opportunity Sonic had been looking for.

Drawing the grenade Sally had thought to bring from his backpack, Sonic pulled the pin and deposited the grenade underneath the armor plate, next to the hydrogen cell, and ran for the lab, not stopping to dismember any of the SWATbots he passed. The shockwave from the resulting explosion never caught up with Sonic, as his Power-Ring-enhanced legs carried him forward through the lab doors to take cover behind the durasteel wall. The rest of the SWATbots in the hall, however (which included the greater part of the Command Center Battalion's Alpha Company), saw first-hand what their fuel cells were capable of when motivated by a fragmentation grenade as they were blown apart by the blast.

"Jeez, Laweez," Sonic sighed. "That wasn't even worth using up the Ring's last juice for. It's getting to the point where Badniks are tougher than these chrome domes, and that's sayin' somethin'." After expressing this disgust at the ease with which he had just cheated death, Sonic looked at his surroundings. A few Tekbots skittered about, carrying out their duties oblivious to the intruder in their midst, or the carnage he had just wrought upon their combatant brethren just outside. As the now used-up ring crumbled to dust at Sonic's feet, he made quick work of the non-combat drones, leaving him alone in the lab.

His objective was not difficult to spot.

Two massive transparisteel tubes dominated the lab's back wall, bathing the lab in a greenish glow. The tubes were filled with a mostly transparent, greenish fluid, and the fluorescent lights attached to the metallic plates at the top and bottom of these tubes were responsible for the glow as they shined through this bubbling liquid. Suspended within each tube, held off of the bottom plate by a series of wires that looked almost like Robotnik's parody of medical equipment, was an unconscious fox, close to Sonic's age in appearance. One, a male, was blue-furred while the other, whose face bore a familial resemblance to the male, was a red-furred female. All-in-all, they didn't look so different from most Mobians.

_And they look so vulnerable, unconscious with tubes and wires and stuff sticking out of them like that,_ Sonic thought. _These are Ancient Ones? _These_ are supposed to be _gods_?_ But he put that out of his mind for the moment. Regardless of his opinion, the mission was to break these two out of Robotropolis. And in Sonic's mind, the key word in "break out" was "break."

So that's exactly what he did. After carving his way through a durasteel blast door and following it up with the titanium armor of a SWATbot company, the transparisteel tubes were a cakewalk to the hedgehog, even without the aid of a Power Ring. With the same strokes that shattered the tubes, he cut the wires suspending the two, leaving them to fall onto the now soaked floor as the peculiar greenish fluid flowed across the floor.

Almost immediately, the blue fox began to cough, attempting to pull himself up to his hands and knees. The red one's recovery was a bit later, but in less than a minute (a minute in which Sonic eyed the door warily, wondering how he would protect his two charges if additional SWATbots chose that moment to arrive), the two were staggering to their feet, swaying about on legs that seemed to have partly atrophied.

"Easy. Take it easy," Sonic coaxed in spite of his urge to shout 'hurry the hell up so we can get out.' "Don't go passin' back out on me."

"Where are we?" The blue fox asked.

"Nowhere good," Sonic answered gravely. "Listen, I'm tryin' to get you guys somewhere safe, but we gotta hurry. There's this fat guy named Robotnik who-"

"Robotnik," the blue fox coughed. "We know about him. What does he…" looking about, the fox seemed to observe his surroundings for the first time. "Great Cosmos. This is the machine city, isn't it?" His voice contained more awe than alarm, a subtlety which Sonic noted with disapproval.

"Yeah, this is Ro-Town," Sonic answered. "And we gotta get going. Now-"

"Who are you, anyway?" The red fox spoke for the first time, having only just gained her balance.

Sonic bit his tongue for a second to keep from screaming at the interruption. _If any of the stories about their power are true_, he reasoned_, then making one mad might not be a good idea. Especially a girl._ "Name's Sonic. That's with one 'n.' Now-"

"Sonic," the red fox interrupted again with a nod. "Yes, we've heard of you too."

Sonic shrugged quickly. "What can I say? I'm a celebrity. Now-"

"I'm Orana Archer. This is my twin brother, Solyurus." She and the blue fox both inclined their heads in greeting.

"Yeah, pleased as Hell to meetcha," Sonic nodded vigorously, speaking quickly and in an elevated voice to avoid any further interruptions. "But we don't have time for who's who. We gotta juice 'n' jam outta this place. Now can you two walk?"

The foxes glanced at each other, as if each was waiting for the other to speak. Finally, Solyurus tried to take a step.

Then another.

He got two step three before his knees began to wobble and he started to collapse, prevented from doing so only by Sonic catching him.

"I'll take that as a 'no,'" Sonic answered himself. "Terrific. Well, option B. We gotta-"

"Where are we going?" The Orana asked.

"Jeez, miss. We don't have time for twenty questions!" Sonic snapped.

"Just tell me," Orana insisted.

Sonic rolled his eyes. "It's a place called 'Knothole.' It's safe."

Orana and Solyurus glanced at each other. "Knothole?" Orana asked Solyurus.

Solyurus shook his head. "Haven't heard of it either." Both Ancient ones turned to face Sonic and asked in unison, "where exactly is this 'Knothole'?"

"I can't exactly go blabbin' that around in the middle of Ro-Town," Sonic answered indignantly. "And you're not exactly in a position to be choosy about hotels either."

"We asked for a reason," Orana assured him. "Can you describe it?"

Sighing, Sonic glanced around to make sure there was no surveillance equipment. He didn't _see_ any, but… "It's in the Great Forest," he whispered in Orana's ear. Then, speaking up again, he started to urge them on. "Now if you two'll just-"

"Solyurus, can you feel it?" Orana again.

"It's not hard to feel," Solyurus replied. "It's like there's a line in the Aether. On one side there's no life and on the other side it's verdant."

Orana nodded. "That would be your 'Great Forest?'" The question was directed at Sonic."

Sonic nodded, pondering the conversation he'd just heard. "Yeah," he spoke slowly. "It is, but… what's an Aether?"

Rather than answering, Orana took a few staggering steps closer to Sonic and Solyurus. "Do you think we have the strength for it, Sol?"

"I don't think we have the strength to walk there, so we'd better try," was the reply.

"It's settled then. Sonic, this may feel a little strange."

Sonic wrinkled his nose in confusion. "What may feel a little… who-o-oa… dude, I think I'm gonna hurl." His vision became blurry, and he felt a sensation he guessed was like being liquefied and sucked down a whirlpool. Slowly, the lab faded into such blurry focus that all was a haze of black and gray. He felt certain he would have made good on his promise to put the contents of his stomach on display, if only he could have found where his stomach was.

Then the haze of black and gray began to take on a shade of green, along with the blue of the Greater Sun. The cold of the lab was replaced by a basking warmth. The haze began to take on shapes: the shapes of trees.

…Trees?

Finally, Sonic's vision returned, though he wondered if it was a hallucination. "Dude, we're in the Great Forest!" He exclaimed. His sense of touch, however, denied this as he still felt the solidity of duracrete beneath his feet.

"We're at the edge of the city," Orana spoke from next to him as he looked around and came to the same conclusion. "At least, that's assuming the 'city' only includes the area where there was little life."

Sonic nodded. "Yeah, that pretty much sums it up, but-" he cut himself off as he noticed a speck of brown metal at the corner of his vision. "Spy eye!" he called, pointing at the incoming surveillance orb. "Pretty soon 'Botnik's gonna know you're gone."

* * *

Robotnik, waiting in Master Control with his two hostages (one of whom had just returned to consciousness to find himself bound hand and foot at SWATbot riflepoint), was already aware of the escape. It had, after all, been inevitable as soon as the annoying rodent breached the Command Center. It could likely have been prevented if the additional security provided for the city during Task Force E.G.G's stay had been properly in place, but Robotnik would have a talk with Snively about that little affair later. In truth, the unexpected arrival of a third Ancient One in the city did increase the hedgehog's chances as well. Altogether, Fate seemed to have conspired to ensure that the hedgehog would make away with the A.I. Project's power source.

But Ivo Robotnik, the Supreme Dictatissimo of Mobius, bowed to no one, least of all a trollop like Fate. And as soon as one of the surveillance orbs detected the hedgehog's presence on the outskirts of the city, he knew it was time to remind Fate who her master was.

"Is the camera ready?" He asked one of the room's Tekbots.

_"Ready, Doctor Robotnik,"_ answered the drone.

"Begin broadcasting."

* * *

Scattered throughout the city of Robotropolis were satellite-transmitted video windows. They were among the few artifacts remaining of Old had once been used for public service announcements to the city's citizens. After his takeover, Robotnik put them to use as part of his propaganda war against the resistance cells within the city. Today, he used them to issue an ultimatum.

"Good afternoon, hedgehog," Robotnik's oily voice thundered across the transurban industrial landscape from a multitude of speakers as his sinister visage appeared on every display screen in the city. "How nice of you to stop by for tea. Unfortunately, you left in such a hurry there appeared to be a bit of a mix-up. In your haste to leave I believe you took two friends of mine with you," his face twisted into a grimace of demonic glee, "and left two of your own in their stead." Robotnik withdrew from the camera long enough for the screen to display Charles and Tails, both surrounded by armed SWATbots.

"Sonic," Tails called out plaintively, the distress in his voice amplified by the sirens that carried the transmission across the massive cityscape.

Sonic's breath caught in his throat at the sight. "T…Tails… Uncle Chuck?"

Sonic was so caught off-guard by the scene that he wouldn't stop to think about the conversation taking place behind him until much later. "Orana, am I seeing what I think I',-"

"Yes, he's got two tails."

"But that has to mean… can we get to him?"

"We don't know where the place is that we're seeing, Sol. There's… there's just no way."

Robotnik stepped into view of the camera once more, ending all discussion as he dropped all pretenses. "I'll make you a deal, road-rodent. You have one hour to deliver the Ancient Ones to my Command Center and surrender yourself for roboticization. Do this…" the demonic grin returned, "and I'll let you pick one to go free. The other will stay behind as a punishment for your little rebellion. If you fail to appear, well," there was the sound of SWATbot blaster carbines switching to their highest setting coming from the speakers. When Robotnik spoke again the grin was gone, replaced by a face of unmasked hatred, the face of a man with no ambition higher than squeezing every drop of life out of the universe that spawned him. "One hour, hedgehog." With that the screens went blank, leaving the city in complete silence again.

Sonic stood, unmoving, for almost a full minute after the transmission. "Tails," he whispered. "And Uncle Chuck…"

"If you decide to turn us over, we won't blame you," Orana said quietly, unwilling to look at Sonic. "Saving us shouldn't have to cost lives."

Swallowing back tears and clenching his fists, Sonic answered through gritted teeth. "It's gonna cost lives anyway if I turn you in, 'specially if Robotnik builds that damned A.I. Project."

After another long silence, Solyurus asked, "then what are you going to do?"

Sonic's hands began to shake, and Orana began to wonder if her rescuer was not about to turn and take out his anger on her brother. Finally, unable to hide tears any longer, Sonic answered, "I'm gonna complete the mission." At that, his hands stopped their shaking, and the indecision that seemed to make him convulse subsided to a simple pain that only his eyes admitted to. "You two, grab on to my backpack and hold tight," he ordered in a voice that brooked no argument, Ancient Ones or not. Once he was sure they had as secure a grip on his backpack as they could be expected to, Sonic turned, agonized, toward Knothole and ran.


	12. Chapter Ten

**The Federally Mandated 'Word From The Author': Okay, so I lied about Knuckles being in this chapter. I THOUGHT Knuckles owuld be in this chapter, but since so many people berated me for the length of the last chapter, (here's looking at you, Frozen Nitrogen) and since this one was dangerously close to that same engorged length, I opted to put the Knuckles scene off for one more chapter. But don't worry, I can't get out of it this time, because it's at the beginning of the chapter. As for this chapter, this is the one where Sonic really starts to run the risk of completely breaking down. My concern when writing this was how do I portray a tragedy-ridden teenage hero and still have the smart-alecky, wise-cracking "I'm waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiting," Sonic of the SatAM come through. I hope I succeeded at that, but I suppose it will be up to the reviewers to decide. That having been said, I'll never know if you don't review. But I digress. Reader, enjoy.**

Chapter Ten: The Choices We Made

"Hey, Bunnie, I think she's coming around."

"Oh, thank mah stars, Rotor. Sally? can ya here me, girl?"

"Perhaps wee should not be, 'ow you say, pushing ze princess so hardly. She has, eef you will recall, been through ze ringer."

Sally heard the voices from light years away, air vibrations slicing their way through a murky muck of nothingness. And with them, there were sights. Peculiar, hazy shapes that swerved and swayed drunkenly at the outskirts of her vision, which itself seemed an interminable sea of formless, indistinct color. She tried to shake her head to clear it, but that only made it worse, tossing her addled brains about on the waves of that sea. She would have stood up, but she seemed suddenly conscious of the planet's spin, and it was spinning to quickly for her to maintain balance. She groaned.

"Ze princess, she est trying to speak!"

"Naw, really Tony?"

"Pardon moi, mademoiselle. But my name ees Antoinne. An, twan."

_Antoinne,_ Sally thought. _Why does that name sound familiar? And the voices seem like I've heard them somewhere too. If I could just see…_ Her eyes, she realized, were open only into slits. Her eyelids seemed to carry with them the weight of small planets, but she forced herself to lift them. For her efforts, a tsunami of garish light flooded her vision, making her wince and slam them shut. "Someone," she muttered. "Turn… turn out… damned… light."

Amused laughter greeted her petition. "Bunnie, draw the curtains a little, would you?"

The light began to fade, and Sally tried opening her eyes again. This time, the planet's spin appeared to have slowed to a more manageable speed. The shapes she beheld, no longer nondescript splashes of color, began to take shapes. A walrus, a coyote wearing an ornate uniform jacket, and a half-mechanical rabbit. _Knothole._ The word seemed to emanate from her innermost self, like someone inside her head holding up a cue card. It jogged her memory, a memory from a time ages ago, when there had been more to the universe than the dreamless haze of comatose sleep. A time when she and her small group of friends (_these friends, _she realized) carried on a desperate war against something called Robotnik.

_Robotnik…? Robotropolis… the mission…_

_…The mission?!_ A floodgate in her mind opened up, and her memory spilled over her like a bucket of cold water, restoring her to consciousness with a gasping breath. "The mission," she demanded of the nearest person, who happened to be Bunnie. "Did we…?"

"Relax," Bunnie ordered. "Yes, we got the Ancient Ones, Sal."

Something about the lack of reassurance in an answer that should have put her at ease made Sally eye Bunnie suspiciously as she tried again to sit up. She managed to lift herself onto her elbows and decided that would have to do. "Then it was a success?"

None of them answered, but the trio exchanged an ill-becoming glance. "Well," Bunnie broke the silence embarrassedly, "technically, yeah."

_Now what's that supposed to mean?_ "Technically how, Bunnie?"

Finally, Rotor gave her a marginally more direct answer. "You did what you went there to do, Sally, but… well, no one's been really willing to call it a success."

Sally frowned. "What do you mean by-"

"It's Tails, Sally-girl," Bunnie blurted.

The weights Sally had recently managed to lift from her eyelids made their way to the pit of her stomach. "What's Tails? What about him?"

Uncomfortable glances went around the room again as the three seemed to play a game of mental hot potato with the task of breaking the news to their leader.

_Humility coming from Sonic would be easier to find than straight answers from these three. _"Somebody talk to me," Sally ordered, the stern edge beginning to return to her voice as concern for the young fox who called her 'aunt' began to rise to the surface.

"He, uh…" Rotor stammered, rubbing the back of his wrinkled head with one great flipper-like claw. "He never… I mean, Sonic went after him, but when he got back…" he sighed. There was simply no gentle way to break news like this, and he decided it would be better not to try. "He was captured, Sally."

Sally stared back, absorbing the news. _Captured?_ There could only be one possible response. They had to mount a rescue mission. But something in their eyes seemed to suggest they had given up on that possibility already, and a sickening possibility occurred to her. Lying back down, she asked of no one in particular, "how long?"

"About three days," Bunnie answered sadly.

_Three days._ The words reverberated through Sally's head like funeral bells. "And I take it we've been powerless to launch a rescue attempt." At that, the three Freedom Fighters who were gathered around Sally exchanged a peculiar look. One of… _Relief? _"Anyone care to let me in on the big secret?"

It was Rotor who finally spoke. "Sally, don't freak out, but… well, we've got four visitors in Knothole."

The urging that began Rotor's sentence proved impossible to Sally's already addled nerves. "What? Outsiders, here?"

"Calm down, calm down, Sally-Girl," Bunnie insisted, placing her hands on Sally's shoulders to sedate her. "They're Ancient Ones. We're sure of it."

"But you said four," Sally was practically shouting now. "What about the other two?"

"Eet ees as Mademoiselle Bunnie 'as been saying," Antoinne explained. "Zey are Ancient Ones. We are sure of eet."

Sally's breath stopped short as she slowly turned to look at the faces of each of the three, searching for any traces of deception, or even doubt. "But.. we only rescued two from Robotropolis."

"Tell ya the truth, Sal, it's more like the other two rescued us from Robotropolis," Bunnie corrected. "You recollect the last minutes before you went out?"

Silence.

"N… no, I don't. I kind of remember a… a light, and then, good gods…" Sally placed a hand against her suddenly throbbing head. "What happened, Bunnie?"

Bunnie sighed before answering. "Well, Sally, let me start from the beginning."

* * *

_Two Days Earlier_

Sometimes when a person runs, they're running away from something.

Sometimes, they're running toward something.

And sometimes, they're running after something.

At the present moment, Sonic wasn't sure which one he was doing. He couldn't run away from his responsibility (there it was: that ugly word) to Tails, or to Sally, or to the Freedom Fighters, so he decided against option one. But he didn't have a destination other than "somewhere other than here," and even that was less a matter of goal than a necessity of facilitating the act of running, so he wasn't really running toward anything either. And he wasn't running after anything, because there was no possible way his present course (or lack thereof) could bring him into confrontation with the hideous facts he wished he could change, so running after anything was out.

_I guess sometimes it just feels better to run_, Sonic told himself. _Because speed is one thing that's always right. It's always the way it's supposed to be. And 'cause I never fail at it._ He gritted his teeth and ran a little harder as that thought enterred his brain. _Did I fail? Was there anything I could have done?_ When he thought about it, there wasn't. Tails had known the dangers, and he'd been able to take care of himself in Robotropolis before, when it had been just him and Sonic. _Yeah, but I was there to keep an eye on him that time. This time I wasn't._ So that was it. He HAD failed. He had failed by leaving Tails with Bunnie and Sally while he ran off to satisfy his need for a rematch with his metallic nemesis. It

So it was his own fault.

_No, that's not right._ _If I hadn't drawn Metal off of them, then Sally and Bunnie'd both be Ro-Town road-pizza now. Besides, I shouldn't be the only one of the Freedom Fighters who knows how to look out for their buddies. We're a team. At least that's what Sally's always saying._ He ran a little bit harder still as he realized it. He'd trusted Sally and Bunnie to watch out for Tails. Tails had done it for them, hadn't he? They'd let down a fellow Freedom Fighter and left him behind.

So it was Sally and Bunnie's fault.

_No, that's not right either. 'Cause like I said, Tails should have been able to look after himself. He way past kicked bot when we raided Ro-Town on our own. Whatever happened in there, he should've seen it coming. He knew how to watch his back. He just got careless._

So it was Tails' own fault.

_But that can't be right. If that's true, then was it Uncle Chuck's fault he got roboticized eleven years ago? Was it Catski's fault he got left behind? Was it everyone in the city's own fault that they let Robotnik take over in the first place?!_

Tearing himself apart with rage, and unable to find a suitable target for it, Sonic vented in the only way he knew how. He ran harder still. He ran until even his trained legs screamed in pain from the exertion. Ignoring them, he ran on. His lungs burned from lack of oxygen as the air whizzed past his nostrils too quickly to be drawn in, but he ignored his lungs and ran on. He ran until his heart began to hammer his ribs with the force of a SWATbot factory's pistons as it struggled to pump his thinly oxygenated blood to his overtaxed legs.

His legs were growing numb now. Not even he could keep this up for much longer. But he had to keep running. He had to, because that was all he could do. The situation was out of his control. In fact, he was beginning to see it had never been in his control. Finally, with a defeated scream that exhausted the last of his lungs' faltering oxygen supply, he slowed to a stop.

Sonic the Hedgehog couldn't run any longer.

He attempted to double over and catch his breath, but the motion turned into a fall, leaving him prone amid the dusty sand of the Great Eastern Plains beyond Never Lake. He was exposed, visible to the prying eyes of any robot that happened to be patrolling the area, but there was nothing he could do about that for the moment. His muscles refused to move.

Sonic wasn't sure how long he lay there, or whether he'd even been conscious for it, before he became aware of the beeping of his communicator. Weakly, he laughed, wincing from the effort it took to do so. There was something absurd about the counterplay between the device's beeping and the cawing of the carrion birds beginning to circle over his head amid the otherwise silent plainscape. Cautiously, as though testing a new limb, he reached into his backpack and withdrew the communicator. "Sonic here. Wazzup?"

"_Hey. Um… Sonic, it's Bunnie."_ The voice over the communicator was Bunnie's but Sonic couldn't help but notice the usual friskiness in her voice was gone. He guessed he already knew the reason.

Lifting the communicator to his mouth, Sonic answered. "Yeah, Bunnie. Whatcha got?"

"_Ah don't mean ta bother you, Sugah-hog, but… um, well, I think you oughta come back to Knothole, kinda in a hurry."_

The irony of being told to hurry up at the one time in history when he didn't feel the "need for speed" was not lost on the blue hedgehog, and he laughed another weak laugh as he hoisted himself up onto his hands and knees. "What's the scoop, Bunnie?"

"_Nuh-uh, Sugah. Not on an open line,"_ was the immediate reply. _"But it's big, Sonic. Not real sure if it's good or bad yet, but it's about Tails, and… well, you gotta hear this straight from the source."_

Sonic sighed as he pressed the "talk" button again. "Got it, Bunnie. Be there in… in a flash." Letting himself fall back to the sand for another moment, Sonic clipped the communicator device back into place in his backpack and rested for a minute. Tails and uncle Chuck were both captured, Sally was out cold, and Knothole had been in such a chaotic uproar when he returned with Orana and Solyurus that he hadn't even been able to see her before he left. His guilt at leaving her in that condition grated him a little, but he had to get away from the village at the time. There was just no other way to cope with the outcome. In truth, he didn't even know how much, if anything, anyone in the village knew about the outcome of the mission, and he didn't want to go back and have to face that. In truth, all he wanted was rest: he wanted to lie down and never have to worry about missions or Freedom Fighting or whether he would be strong enough or fast enough again. He wanted it all to just go away.

_Well, doesn't matter,_ he reminded himself. _All that matters is right now I gotta get up and run back to Knothole, 'cause with Sally out, someone's gonna have to lead the rescue mission._ In the end, that was all there was to it. His friends, his cause, and his home needed him. His own wants would have to wait. "Long as a voice inside me says 'go' I will always keep on runnin,'" he murmured to himself, quoting a song written in his honor that had become popular in Station Square. "Guess a voice inside the ol' backpack is close enough, and that voice is sayin' go. So…"

Climbing to his feet and dusting himself off, Sonic ran.

* * *

Dr. Robotnik watched the array of surveillance screens with an anticipation that was rapidly giving way to irritation. _Where is he? The time I gave him is nearly gone. _"Time check," he barked to one of the tekbots operating Master Control.

"_Fifty-seven minutes and thirty-two seconds have elapsed, Doctor Robotnik," _reported the droid.

Speaking into his radio, Robotnik snapped, "all surveillance posts, report by numbers."

"_Sector 001, negative contact."_

"_Sector 002, negative contact."_

"_Sector 003, negative contact."_

On the litany went, each sector in the Command Quarter reporting that their intended quarry had not been sighted.

"_Your little mind game failed, Julian,"_ Charles jeered, defying the SWATbot laser rifles that were trained on his position_. "Sonic's too good to fall for that. He knows how important the Ancient Ones are. Besides that, he knows you weren't planning to release either of us."_

Tails watched the tensing of Robotnik's jaw with growing apprehension. As it stood, their fate was likely sealed. But Tails had seen that tension mark Robotnik's features before. Once aboard the Death Egg as it lifted off from Angel Island, and once in Station Square, brought on by he loss of a missile. And on both occasions a change had come over Robotnik: a change called "Eggman." That change worried him, because while Robotnik would doubtlessly kill Charles, and either kill or roboticize Tails, Robotnik was a man of efficiency and calculations. Such a man could be predicted. He would act in his own cold best interests. But Eggman, on the other hand… Tails shuddered. From what he'd seen, he did not think it outside the realm of possibility for Eggman to empty his city of security forces and set them about torching the Great Forest if he went into a rage, and never mind the imminent damage to his precious city. "Don't get him worked up, Uncle Chuck," Tails warned quietly.

"Out of the mouths of babes, Sir Charles," Robotnik said flatly, his eyes never turning in the direction of his captives.

"_Or what?"_ Charles announced defiantly. _"You'll kill us? Or roboticize Tails? What do you think you can do that you aren't already planning to do?"_

A cluster of pulleys where a muscle had once been in Robotnik's jaw began to work furiously, and the air was filled with the sound of metal grinding against metal as Robotink ground his teeth.

"_Aww, too bad. Looks like you'll have to find a new power source for your precious little Time Portal now. Or did you think the whole world didn't already know what the A.I. Project was?"_ Charles continued. _"And on top of it all, Snively's hiding out on _Flying Battery,_ and Metal Sonic's dragging his busted chassis up to maintenance where he'll stay for a solid week at least. And who knows what's going on with your Angel Island Launch Base?"_ Charles tsk tsked mockingly. _"And just when it looked like you were about to bring the war to an end too. Doctor Eggman sat on a wall. Doctor Eggman had a great fall."_

"_Fifty-nine minutes have elapsed, Doctor Robotnik," _a tekbot chimed in.

"_All of his SWATbots and roboticized men couldn't put the empire together again,"_ Charles continued mocking, ignoring the doctor's now clenched and shaking fist.

"Were I in your position, Charles," Robotnik hissed, barely able to speak now through his gritted teeth, "I would be worrying about who's going to put you and your nephew's protégé together again!"

"_Face it, Julian,_" Charles shouted louder still. _"As hostages, we were your trump card. You played us, and you still lost. And now, Sonic and the Freedom Fighters have two gods among their ranks! How long do you think your empire will stand when the Ancient Ones learn that you've captured two of their own, and your enemies rescued them?"_

A tekbot turned away from its console to face Doctor Robotnik. _"Sir, the allotted time has transpired. All sectors report negative contact with the target or either subject."_

Every inch of his metallic body quivering with bloodlust, Robotnik stood up from his chair in the center of the room. "Well then, we will simply have to begin the afternoon's festivities without our guest of honor." Turning his hellish eyes toward his captives, he pointed a condemning finger at Tails. "Sir Charles, the last sight you see with the eyes I gave you will be Tails succumbing to the machine you built."

As the young fox swallowed a lump that he was determined not to have in his throat during his final moments, Charles bravado faltered. _"It won't do you any good,"_ he declared, grasping onto whatever remnants of defiance he could muster.

"True," Robotnik confessed. "True. But I can think of no greater torment for you. Captain?"

The SWATbot nearest Tails turned toward its master. _"Your orders, my lord?"_

"Put the fox into the roboticizer. Once the cycle is complete, neutralize the defective."

The SWATbot captain saluted, and turned to Tails. With no ceremony at all, it clutched the teenage fox by his wrist binders, hauled him into the air, and carried him to a seat resembling an ancient executioner's electric chair in a far corner of the Master Control room. As he fastened the cub's arms and head to the chair, a glass tube lowered into place around the chair from the ceiling. "_Subject is secure, sir,"_ the Captain reported.

"Begin roboticization sequence," Robotnik ordered absently, all traces of his former fury replaced by sadistic glee at the sight of his enemy's apprentice inside the roboticizer. "Enjoy the show, Sir Charles. It's the least I can do, since I owe the device's construction to you after all."

Charles made a knowingly futile attempt to lunge at Robotnik, only to have the hold on his arms tightened by the SWATbots who restrained him. _"You'll answer for this, Julian!" _He screamed, unable to look at Tails' now tear-streaked face as the fox's courage finally failed him. _"I swear, if there's justice anywhere in this misbegotten universe, there'll be a whole new circle of Hell set aside just for you, and you'll answer for this! Damn you! All the gods that ever lived, Damn You, Robotnik!"_

In that same instant, as though the gods of all the races in the macrocosm heard Charles' summons and answered, the roboticizer came to life with a fiery glow. A surge of intense light, as if to illuminate all the Cosmos, emanated from inside the tube as the roboticizer's nanite-carrier beam struck Tails' forehead. Acting on reflexes developed as organics, Robotnik and Charles both shielded their eyes unnecessarily.

"In the name of-" Robotnik choked back a curse. "Report!"

"_A massive feedback wave has overloaded the nanite replicator, sir,_" a tekbot chirped in the nearest approximation to panic its vocabulator would allow. _"Source unknown. The properties are similar to the feedback of a Power Ring within the roboticizer unit. Subject's robotization factor, zero percent."_

"Scan for Power Rings and other Chaos Control devices inside the unit," Robotnik snapped. "I won't have this moment ruined by a pre-pubescent pest's damnable luck in smuggling a-"

"_No Chaos Control devices detected,"_ The tekbot interrupted. _"Source of feedback wave identified as the subject."_

"Impossible!" Robotnik bellowed, pushing the tekbot aside as he ran to its control station to check its findings. He was not prepared for what he found. "If these readings are correct, then…" He raised his eyes toward the roboticizer, now radiating the light of ten thousand suns. "Sir Charles, my friend, it appears I'll be able to power the A.I. Project after all." His grim determination returning, Robotnik began to issue orders again. "Cease roboticization and prepare the Ketsunae containment unit immediately. Communications, contact _Flying Battery_, and alert them to prepare for departure to Angel Island. Inform Snively he will command EC2 in Metal Sonic's stead, as I will conduct the repairs on the commander along the way."

"_What of Priority-two, Doctor Robotnik?"_ Asked the SWATbot captain as the tekbots busily set about carrying out Robotnik's orders.

Eyes narrowed into glaring red lines, Robotnik turned swiveled his head toward Charles. "Scrap it," Robotnik ordered. "And throw its hulk into the Great Forest for the hedgehog to find, but not before I've attached a message to it."

"_It will be done, my Lord Doctor,"_ the SWATbot answered. As soon as it said this, the SWATbot signaled its comrades to ready their weapons. At once, with firing-squad precision, seven SWATbots pointed their laser rifles at Sir Charles and fired.

* * *

In the meeting hut of Knothole village, a peculiar assembly was gathered. At the head of the Oak table stood Merlin Prower, with Isaac, Solyurus and Orana seated in a single line down one side of table. Next to Orana sat Viceroy Drake of Station Square, visibly intimidated by the presence of the Elder who had left him with a task ten years earlier (one which he had failed). Bunnie sat across from Drake, leaving the seats across from the Ketsunae children empty, whether by design or accident. Finally, at the end of the table opposite Merlin, Sonic sat, uncharacteristically subdued. Antoinne, desiring no part of the meeting, had managed to escape it by volunteering to watch over Sally, who had been moved to a spare hut and was under close observation until she regained consciousness. Rotor too, in a show of unusual thirst for battle, had volunteered to lead a patrol near the outskirts of Robotropolis with the stated intent of "preventing a retaliatory strike by Robotnik." Bunnie, for her part, held to the belief that Rotor's decision had been made out of a desire to exact some form of vengeance on Robotnik for Tails' capture (news which had, by now, spread throughout the village), coupled with the Freedom Fighters' inability to launch an appropriate rescue mission on such short notice, monitor their princess's condition, and see to the needs of both the Ketsunae and Human refugees.

And Sonic, leveling his eyes directly at Merlin, made no secret of not believing what he was being told. "Are you trying to tell me," he spoke slowly (no small feat for him, Bunnie noted), "that the kid who followed me around like I walked on water for the last eight years is an Ancient One?"

Viceroy Drake added his own question to Sonic's. "And that there was a third disguised Ancient One in my city, beyond the two I was told about?"

The silence that followed these two questions served only to give them time to simmer in the minds of those who asked them before Merlin finally answered flatly, "yes." And then, "to both questions."

"But why was this kept secret?" Drake cried.

"And why should I believe the likes of you?" Sonic shouted over him. "I don't even know for sure that YOU'RE an Ancient One, let alone Tails' uncle. And if you are Tails uncle, then how come you've never been around, huh? You know who's been raising Tails for nearly a decade? Sally. That's who. Sally, and me." He paused, giving Merlin time to absorb his accusations before standing up, knocking his chair over as he did and throwing a stinging pointed finger at Merlin. "Come to think of it, if you're Tails' uncle and an Ancient One, then why didn't you do something to stop Tails from getting caught?"

"My race doesn't like to interfere with the affairs of younger races," Merlin responded immediately.

"Oh yeah? You didn't seem to mind interfering when you hid children in Station Square and told the Viceroy it was his job to protect them. I'll bet you even-" he caught his breath in a gasp as a new realization came over him. When he resumed speaking, it was in a voice smothered in even thicker anger than before. "That's what you did with Tails, wasn't it?"

"Sugah-hog, that one's not fair," Bunnie tried to intervene, to no avail.

"Sally didn't find him abandoned like she's said all these years," Sonic continued unabated. "No, you dropped him into her lap… dropped your _baby_ nephew into a six-year-old girl's lap, and told her she was responsible for him, didn't you?"

"Mister Sonic," Viceroy Drake matched Bunnie's attempt to calm him, with the same result.

"And I'll bet you did it knowing that six-year-old girl was already trying to be a leader to a bunch of kids that were trying to fight the war their parents lost!" Sonic, by now, was shouting loudly enough that villagers were beginning to peak out from their own huts to see what was going on at the meeting hut. With this final accusation, he paused, teeth clenched in an unmasked loathing he normally reserved for Robotnik.

Merlin made no denials. His shoulders had drooped noticeably over the course of Sonic's berating speech, and the three children beside him had noticed. Orana and Solyurus merely shifted their eyes between each other and the floor, guilty embarrassed to witness such a heated argument between their rescuer and their mentor. Isaac, by contrast, gazed at Sonic through narrowed eyes, restrained from lashing out only by Merlin's earlier orders to speak only after he himself had finished saying everything he had come to say. When Merlin finally spoke, his voice bordered on the very condescending air for which he had often criticized Isaac. "If you think you have said anything I have not long agonized about on my own, then let me disillusion you."

"Agonized?" Sonic spat. "Oh, I feel mondo-beyondo-better now. You agonized over it. You may have totally let down the children you say it was your job to protect, and you may have left kids to raise your nephew, but you agonized over it, so everything's cool, right?"

"I apologize for burdening you with Miles then," Merlin answered.

Sonic's glare hardened. "Burden? Dude, Tails's never been a burden. In fact, havin' him around has been, well, it's been way, way past any kind of cool I've ever known. But that's props to Tails, not to you. And y'know, the more I think about it, the more like it seems you got real nerve showin' your face here."

At that, Isaac could remain silent no longer. "That's enough!" He shouted, leaping from his seat. "A little gratitude would be appreciated. If it hadn't been for Elder Prower, your princess wouldn't have left Robotropolis alive."

"_If it hadn't been for Elder Prower, we wouldn't have had to go to Robotropolis in the first place!_"

"You can't blame the Elder for your inability to protect your supposed friends, hedgehog!"

At Isaac's last, the room seemed drawn up in the collective gasp of its occupants. Sonic and Isaac looked at each other with venomous eyes, both mirroring the undiluted loathing on the other's face.

"Isaac, that will do," Merlin spoke crisply, in a tone that made clear he would have more to say to Isaac on the subject later, and little of it was likely to be favorable.

Isaac 's gaze relented slightly. "Forgive me Elder. It's just that-"

"That, will, do, Isaac."

As Isaac reclaimed his seat, Merlin returned his eyes to Sonic, taking the teenager's hateful look full-on. "Do you think me a failure, Sir Sonic?"

Sonic answered nothing, but the unchanging killer's eyes said 'yes.'

"To this I make no denials," Merlin admitted calmly. "But not for the reasons you think. Yes, I left my nephew with a band of child-refugees, and yes, I left three other children in the care of the Station Square Viceroy. What you fail to realize is that I had no choice."

"Oh yeah? Why should I believe that?"

"He's telling the truth, Sonic," Drake spoke up, causing Sonic and Bunnie to turn their eyes in the Human's direction. "I'll leave it up to the Elder to decide how much he's willing to say about the reason, but he's telling the truth. I can vouch for that."

For the first time since standing up, Sonic's teeth unclenched… slightly. "And how exactly did an Ancient One not have a choice?" He asked in a measuredly less combative tone.

Merlin appeared to contemplate his answer for a long time before speaking. "The children were hidden to protect them from… from a certain danger." Merlin closed his eyes, recalling that day, millennia ago, in the Emerald Palace with his friend Pendragon Ambrosius: the day the traveler Link Ambrosius first told him, albeit tangentially of the survivor of the Chae-Dan war. _And that's where I failed. Everything that's come since… Dragmire, Cyrus, Solaur, I suppose Robotnik too in the final analysis, it's all been the result of that. And what is the Vanguard War but my attempt to manipulate mortals into cleaning up the mess I left?_ But this wasn't the time or the place for that kind of thinking. "They had to be hidden from one who wanted to see our race's power used for his own ends." _One who, for all intents and purposes, succeeded._

Sonic snorted. "Oh, man, don't try to tell me you were hiding them from Robotnik?"

Isaac seemed about to answer, Bunnie noted. But Merlin placed a hand on the youth's shoulder, and Isaac remained silent. _There's a whole lot they're not telling us,_ she made a mental note to speak to Sonic about the matter later.

"No," Merlin shook his head. "Not Robotnik. The Guardian of Angel Island can tell you more. Suffice it to say for now that as my nephew, Miles was in the greatest danger of all."

"Yeah, well, speaking of Miles in danger," the heat was starting to return to Sonic's voice, "since your Ancient One hocus-pocus didn't seem to be be up to the job of bustin' Tails out of Ro-town, what are we doin' about getting' him back before he gets roboticized?"

Isaac scoffed, rolling his eyes. "For the fastest thing alive, he's certainly a slow one."

Sonic turned to face Isaac. "Hey. Y'know what? I'm just about through listening to the air pollution coming outta that hole in your face, dude."

"Do you say so?" Isaac asked in mock interest. "And what, praytell, would you do about it, good sir?"

"_THAT IS ENOUGH!"_ Merlin's voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, filling the room with a sound like a self-contained, articulate thunderstorm. The villager's outside, the ones who had found such fascination in the argument between Merlin and Sonic only moments before, now took cover in their huts. Sonic and Isaac both, rebuffed by the display from the head of the table, took their seats with what the defeated, indignant pseudo-defiance that passes for humility in adolescent males, giving Merlin carte-blanche to speak further. "Isaac's point, Sonic," Merlin continued, forcing his temper to subside, "is that Miles is in no more danger of roboticization than Orana and Solyurus were. The danger is not to him, in other words, but to the rest of the planet. For, if you'll recall the reasons for your valiant rescue of the twins in the first place…" He let Sonic fill in the gaps.

"Aw, man. The A.I. Wormhole thing." Sonic said after a pause.

"An' lil ol' sugah-fox is the battery," Bunnie moaned.

Merlin nodded.

"Okay, so Tails isn't gonna get roboticized. He's gonna be used to power one o' Robotnik's doomsday weapons," Sonic said. "And this changes our next move how, exactly? Either way, it's time we take the game to Ro-Town and bust him out!"

"Not without Princess Sally," Merlin spoke with a surety that none but Isaac had ever seen.

Sonic made a motion with his fist as though knocking on an invisible door in front of him. "Uh, hello? Sal's not exactly in any shape for a mission right now, in case you didn't notice."

"Then you _must_ wait until she's recovered. Period," Merlin answered plainly.

"As Antoinne would say, excuse-am you?" Sonic fired back. "As far as the hedgehog is concerned, 'wait' is a four-letter word. I can lead the team. We'll have Tails back before Sally wakes up." Sonic knew as he said it that there was something very wrong with his statement, but he refused to believe that part of his mind.

Judging by the looks on their faces, however, Merlin and the Ancient Ones already knew what that thought was that had forced itself unwillingly on his consciousness. Bunnie, having apparently already reached a similar conclusion, merely closed her eyes and looked away. It seemed there was no avoiding it. For reasons Sonic would only later understand, the simple truth was made plain in that moment. Rescue or not, Tails wasn't coming back. At least, not to Knothole.

"No," Sonic gave what he thought was to be his final word on the subject. "No, you guys don't get it. I'm bringin' Tails back."

"You couldn't if you tried," Merlin replied knowingly. "But more importantly, you know Miles-"

"Tails!" Sonic shouted. "He doesn't go by 'Miles.' Not even Sal calls him that."

"Nonetheless, it is his name," Merlin remained calm, refusing to rise to another argument with Sonic. "And after he is rescued from Angel Island he will go with us."

"Angel Island?" Bunnie demanded.

"Even now, Robotnik makes preparations to transport him there."

"So what are we still standin' around here talkin' for?" Sonic shouted in desparation.

"You're waiting until Sally recovers, because she must accompany you," was Merlin's reply, still in that maddeningly calm way.

"And what if we don't feel like waiting?" Sonic stepped out from behind the table and approached Merlin.

"You must. Not because I said so, or because you cannot do this without her, but because you simply must," Merlin said, his eyes taking on a momentary sadness. "It is the law of things, just as water must run downhill. And you know this too."

"And just how do I know?" Sonic demanded, arms folded across his chest.

Yet even as he said it, Sonic's resolve was broken by a nagging voice in that same dark corner of his mind, that corner that had only occasionally spoken to him. And that voice said _he's right._

For a sharp instant, Merlin's face contained an air of sympathy, of regret. Then it was gone, replaced by the pragmatic non-emotion that Sonic found so grating. "When you go," he said, dropping both pretense and preamble as he spoke to Sonic of things the others present could not possibly understand, "you will have to fight. You and those close to you. There will be others, to be sure, but that will come later. When the time comes, only remember my words now. Robotnik is the thumb."

The corner-of-the-mind voice screamed at Sonic, a shrieking, panicky animalistic non-word that spoke only of a primal need to get away, and Sonic felt an image come irrationally to mind: the red pallor of the lesser sun at dusk. Though it's meaning was lost on him, the image would not respond to his sensible mind's demands to leave. It remained. And with it, there was a word, a word Sonic had heard in half-remembered dreams through the years, usually after falling asleep watching the setting of the red sun. The word was 'Vanguard.'

"Robotnik is the thumb," Merlin repeated. "Will you remember?"

"What the Hell does it even mean?" Sonic asked, though he expected no answer. Still, the panicing shriek echoed throughout his mind. _Last chance_, it seemed to say. _You can still back out now, but for the love of the gods, this is your last chance!_

"I can't tell you yet," Merlin confirmed. "I can only ask you the question that you, and you alone must answer: will you go?"

"To help Tails?"

Merlin shook his head. "Tails is no issue. If you say no, then we'll take him from Robotnik. If you say, yes, it's you who has to do it. I ask you again. Will you go?"

_Just tell him no! Just run away! Tails will be better off with his own kind, out of Robotnik's reach! Tell him no! there's still time!_ "Yeah. I'll go."

"Will you remember?"

"Robotnik is the thumb, whatever that means," Sonic sighed. "Yeah, I'll go. But let's get one thing straight."

"Yes?"

"Don't you dare think for a Station Square minute that I've forgiven you, Merlin."

Merlin looked away and snorted a brief chuckle, but it was a humorless laugh, a laugh to cover a weary sigh. "That's okay. You'll have plenty else to forgive me for before it's through."

* * *

_Present Day_

Merlin Prower.

The Ageless Visitor.

The wandering hermit who served occasionally as the wizard in the Court of Acorn.

And the nine-tailed fox who entrusted Sally with the care of the loveliest burden she had ever borne: the child that was nephew and son and little brother all rolled into one for Sally.

_That's why I felt like I should have known him when he brought us to Knothole,_ Sally organized her thoughts after Bunnie and Rotor paused in their tale. _But an Ancient One? _"So, what you're telling me is that Merlin Prower is here?" Sally rubbed her eyes wearily, eager for the spots that covered everything in sight to go away.

"Yep," Bunnie answered. "They're all four still here."

"And where's Sonic?"

Bunnie shuffled her feet uncomfortably. "He's been spendin' his time goin' through Tails' hut,you know…" She didn't finish.

_Packing his things, the way you do for the departed._ Sally took a deep breath and tried to sit up on her own again. This time, it worked. "How's he holding up," she asked.

Again, the 'who gets to give her the bad news' look passed between Rotor and Bunnie.

Sally groaned. "For the gods sakes, now what?"

"Tell ya the truth, Sal,' he's not holdin' up so great," Bunnie answered.

Sally nodded her understanding. "Well, I can hardly blame him." Tears for Tails started to exceed her eyes' ability to contain them. _Stop that_ she chided herself. _He's not dead. In fact, we ought to be shouting for joy about him. He's going to be a long way outside Robotnik's reach once he's with the Ancient Ones._

"Actually, mon preencess," Antoinne interrupted, "Zere is more to it zen zees."

Sally rose to her feet tentatively, as though unsure whether the floor would be there to greet her, and tensed. "More?"

Again, Rotor decided the best way was the direct way. "The way we found out what went on in Robotropolis when the hour ran down," he began, reminding sally of a question she'd intended to ask during that part of the tale, "is because the Good Doctor told us. With all of his usual compassionate manner of course."

Before Sally could ask, Bunnie took the thread of the conversation and ran, while she still had the resolve to do so. "It's Chuck, Sally-girl. Rotor found his body… or, what was left of it, when he went on his patrol."

"Sally's hand flew to her mouth to stifle a sob. "Are… are you sure?"

Rotor spoke more easily this time, deciding it wouldn't do to be too crass about a statement like this. "It was his head, Sal. That's all. There was a video file attached to it, and it had all of what we told you on the recording."

Sally filed her shock and disgust away, as she so often had to when faced with tragedy, to be dealt with later. "Then he _wanted_ us to know."

"There was a note with it, Sal," Rotor pressed on. "And… well, when Sonic read the note…" the sentence hung in the air, leaving sally to imagine a thousand grotesque possibilities of the turmoil wrought on Sonic's already-battered emotions.

"What did it say?"

Rotor's response was to reach into the equipment pouch on his belt and produce a folded up scrap of white printer paper. It was soaked with hydraulic fluid and battery acid, the chemicals which ran through the tubes analogous to veins in Workerbots. This he handed to Sally, who unfolded it and read the brief message written there, in the clear, defined, ordered glyphs of Robotnik's own handwriting.

_I made the choice for you, hedgehog. I hope you agree with it. No doubt I'll see you on Angel island._

_-Kindest Personal Regards,  
__I. J. Robotnik, PhD._

Sally swallowed back what might have either been a sob or a wracking attempt to vomit as she read the note. Once, twice, three times. "Twisted son-of-a-bitch," she hissed. For an interminable second, there was silence, which was broken when she looked up at them, her eyes blazing with a fire the trio had come to recognize, though they had never seen it burn so hotly before. "Rotor, get the Tornado and the Freedom Stormer ready."

Rotor gave a dip of his head that was somewhere between a nod of agreement and a bow of compliance. "Destination, Princess?" The question was a formality.

"It seems that choice has been made for us," Sally answered. "Angel Island."


	13. Chapter Eleven

**Of Course, Another 'Word From the Author:' Greetings, all, and thank you for bearing with this humble writer for the last ten chapters and prologue. First and foremost, accept another one of the apologies I so often have to make for delays between updates. I could bore you with the usual excuses (all of which would, I assure you, be completely true), but I shan't. Instead, let me say I was excited by this chapter for several reasons. For one, its a return-at-last to two of this story's most unique characters: Knuckles and Snively. And, in regard to the former, let me offer assurances up-front that the accent for which I was so lambasted has been subdued, somewhat. Alas, though, dear reader, I found myself unwilling to part with it completely. Again, I hope you will forgive an author's whimsical liberties. In any case, friends, critics, and fellow Sonic fans, it gives me pride to introduce my latest chapter. Enjoy.**

Chapter Eleven: The Calm Before

Darkness had come once again to the Island of the Angels. Midnight was past, and the eastern sky would not begin to take on the hazy indigo film of near-dawn for several hours yet. On a normal night this would have meant virtual silence. Free of insects due to its high altitude, and boasting few nocturnal inhabitants, the island typically slept when the sun did. Not so tonight. Tonight, the island was alive with flurries of sound, and they were the sounds of battle, and of pursuit. Knuckles, the Guardian who had spent the better part of a week single-handedly tearing apart the defenses of Robotnik's Launch Base, was now running for his life. And he was being chased.

_No. Not chased,_ the sick realization came to him as he fled across the vast open sandfloor of the island's Desert Outback. _Hunted._

Eggrobos.

That was the name given to the most advanced and deadly of Robotnik's organo-synthetic hybrid designs, the design crafted in his own twisted self-image. Making optimal uses of the body heat and neuro-electrical impulses of their unlucky living batteries to achieve higher power output than a SWATbot's hydrogen fuel cell, a singleone of them capable of engaging hardened targets that would have required a squad of seven SWATbots. Not only that, but they could do so for longer periods of time, with greater ferocity, even if stripped of their dorsal-mounted propulsion systems and heavy laser carbines. This, combined with low-level self-awareness programming and an almost religious devotion to the madman after whose appearance they had been fashioned made them the most feared of all Robotnik's cybernetic soldiers. Unfortunately for Robotnik, they suffered from one critical drawback: limited numbers.

For this reason, Robotnik assigned them sparingly. Generally, their duties were limited to serving as crew of Task Force E.G.G. and Robotnik's personal bodyguard, with the occasional assignment as a body-double for their lord (units to whom this assignment was given were held in high esteem by their colleagues, especially the rare and select few who survived this honor). In a few years, Robotnik estimated that there would be enough of these units to assign them as replacements for aging SWATbot Legion commanders. After that, he intended to go right down the chain of command, replacing Corps Commanders, Division Commanders, Regiment Commanders, Brigade Commanders, and so forth. But for the time being, there were simply not enough of them. So Robotnik kept them close.

Not all of this was known to Knuckles. He only knew three things about them. One was that he had faced off with these ovoid simulacrums only once before, and that had been at the height of Robotnik's invasion of the island, when the Great Round One himself had been nearby. Two was that they were stronger, faster and more accurate shots than SWATbots.

And three was that the entire island was absolutely crawling with the damnable things!

Tired, outmaneuvered, outgunned, and utterly outplayed on his own field, Knuckles could only draw one conclusion from the presence of the Eggrobos. Robotnik would again visit the island soon, in person. "And when that 'appens," Knuckles muttered to himself, clenching his fists until his bony knuckle joints popped, "there'll be 'ell t'pay. For which one of us I dunno." But in his present condition, he could suspect. The Guardian of Angel Island, and of the Master Emerald that kept it aloft, knew there was only one power that could save him now. It was the very power whose use he existed to guard against. The power which, in the aftermath of Robotnik's last invasion, had been moved to the ruins underneath the ancient desert city of his people, the so-called "Sandopolis."

Which brought Knuckles to his current predicament. There were three things that defined a desert: it was hot (except at night, when it was nightmarishly cold), it was vast, and it was flat. And being flat, it offered precious few places to hide from the unsleeping eyes of his pursuers. At first he'd managed to evade them by submerging himself in the sand whenever he heard the approaching whine of the Eggrobos' jet packs. This tactic had worked, for a while. But then, by sheer chance, an Eggrobo walking across the desert floor in a confused search for its now-vanished quarry happened to pass within striking distance of Knuckles' lethal fists. And sensing weakness, Knuckles let bloodlust win out over common sense and struck, thus giving himself away.

Now, the droids had taken to firing their high-power laser weapons in sweeping arcs across the sand at random, leaving gleaming scars of glass criss-crossing the desert. Knuckles' acquaintance with modern technology had been brief, but he understood well enough what would happen to him if one of those streams of laserfire happened to pass over the spot where he had chosen to hide beneath the sand. Now, his hand forced by his own flaring temper, Knuckles was left with little choice but to keep moving.

That presented the paradox of Knuckles' problem. If he continued in this direction, he would reach the new Chaos Altar in Sandopolis, and the Master Emerald which resided there, but he would also lead his pursuers right to it. " An' if that 'appens, it'll be the 'Idden Palace disaustah all ovah again," Knuckles allowed himself to think out loud, and some how this made parts of his mind that should not have taken notice of it jump in alarm. "There 'as to be a way to-" an epiphany that should have been occasion for joy (and yet, somehow was not) stopped the Guardian for a heartbeat, a heartbeat in which an Eggrobo's laser cannon nearly found home.

_That's what's wrong with their attack pattern. They're not even trying for the Hidden Palace!_ Robotnik's forces had spread from the Launch Base like blood from a non-clotting wound, taking near total control of the island's interior in a matter of days, including the Lava Reef where the original Hidden Palace lay. And yet, as far as Knuckles knew (and he felt certain little went on on Angel Island without his knowledge) there had been no attempt to retake the Hidden Palace. _They're not after the Emeralds, not even the Master. Their target is the island itself!_ As this thought reached cohesion in Knuckles brain, the nearly-lucky Eggrobo who had been responsible for Knuckles' near miss a moment before flew over the echidna's head. Reflexes that had been honed to almost instinct by years of battle guided Knuckles into a somersaulting leap onto the machine's back, where he drove the unforgiving joints from which he derived his name hard into its processor. The droid went into a spiraling course and plummeted to the side of a nearby dune, leaving a crater of black glass and a tendril of oily smoke as its only obituary. By that time, Knuckles was on his feet and running again, having not so much as skipped a beat in his train of thought.

_Okay, _Knuckles reasoned, taking advantage of the few moments he had before the fallen battle droid's comrades arrived to avenge him. _So old Cyber-Scum's troops are taking over the island, without the slightest regard for the Chaos Emeralds, and for some reason the dopple-bots have suddenly reappeared to help with the takeover. _"Problem is Oi know for a fact there were none o' those basta'ds left in one piece after the last invasion, so they must be gettin' reinforcements frim someway-ah off the oy-land. Bleedin' croikey, this is weird."

Another whine, another ear-popping quasi-awareness of ozone, and Knuckles dove himself into the side of a sand dune to evade a laser volley from another Eggrobo. This one came closer than most of the previous ones, close enough that Knuckles felt a sharp burning sensation, followed by the sting of sand in a deep cut as a shard of glass left by the shot sliced a furrow into his right arm, cutting from the elbow, up across his bicep to his shoulder. As his arm  
_(And that was my swinging arm too)  
_fell numb from the wound, Knuckles realized belatedly that he was beginning to slow down. The exertion of his seemingly endless fight/flight was catching up with him, Guardian or not. "Caun't let myself get killed," Knuckles insisted, driving his battered body onward the way a G.U.N. Drillmaster drove a frightened Basic Training recruit: by sheer unwillingness to make allowance for weakness. Reaching out with his senses, he quickly called upon the Emerald he was sworn to protect, channeling a trickle of its energies into stopping the bleeding from his arm. In seconds, the wound closed, leaving only a bright line the color of blood running up his arm. This was a long way from a full healing, but it kept him from losing any more blood than he already had. Besides, it was all he had time for. Using his remaining usable arm, Knuckles began to dig his way out of his self-entombed place in the sand dune. He did not have far to dig, it turned out, because as soon as he pushed the first swath of sand out of his way he felt his arm clutched within the vice-like grip of a five-fingered titanium hand as he was yanked from his place of "safety," and into the sun…

…and the awaiting muzzle of a plasma rifle, held in the other hand of the Eggrobo who now held Knuckles by the arm.

"_Surrender, mammal_," The Eggrobo demanded in a voice that sounded like a SWATbot had discovered vocal tonality. "_Resistance is useless._"

Heedless of his attacker's assurances, Knuckles threw his weight to his right and tugged with his left arm, attempting to off-balance the robot. He followed this up with a left-footed kick, driving the metal spikes on the insteps of his sneakers into the Eggrobo's lower abdomen. The droid moved not one iota, and Knuckles was yanked back to his former position by its unwavering grip. Before Knuckles could attempt another escape maneuver, two more Eggrobos descended from above, flanking him, their guns trained on his head. Wounded, detained, and surrounded, Knuckles looked around to find himself on the dangerous end of what he called "Robotnik's ultimate wireless communicators:" the plasma rifles of the Eggrobo Corps.

_"In Lord Robotnik's name, you are commanded to cease your pointless resistance and comply,_" the Eggrobo in the center spoke firmly, tightening his grip on Knuckles' arm for emphasis.

Knuckles did not move.

"_In the name of Lord Robotnik, you are commanded to-"_

"Silence!" Knuckles roared. As the Eggrobo cut himself off in mid-sentence to process this unlikely response, Knuckles went on. "As fah as 'Lord' R'botnik, th' oyland o' the angels has one lord, and one only: me."

This remark earned Knuckles a clout across his face by the rifle belonging to the Eggrobo on his right. "_You will show more respect, mammal. You are commanded to-"_

"I'll show r'spect way-ah it's due, you coal-powered cunt-bucket," Knuckles shouted his response louder still. "And that's not t' the Eggman or anythin' made in 'is likeness. And as feh your commands, I'm a Guardian, in whose veins flows th' blood o' Pachacamak 'imself. Kill me if y'want, tin grin, but you will commond me NOTHING!"

As Knuckles said this, there was silence, and the last echidna on Mobius awaited the extinction of his race. Before the Eggrobos reached a decision on how to proceed, there came a sound from the top of the sand dune that none of the four of them could have foreseen.

It was the sound of clapping.

"Magnificent valor, even in the face of the grisliest of ends," a silken male voice said as the two flanking Eggrobos spun around to point their rifles outward, searching for the new arrival. "No, morons," the same voice replied in a tone maddeningly like a parent cooing at an infant. "Not there. Look higher."

While the Eggrobo who held Knuckles kept his rifle focused on his captive (and Knuckles felt a sneaking admiration for its discipline in not turning away at the approach of a new threat) the other two turned their rifles to the top of the sand dune. Knuckles followed with his eyes. At first Knuckles saw nothing but the crest of silver sand against the star-sprinkled black velvet of the Mobian upper atmospheric night.

"Good," spoke the same voice, a voice laced with charm and charisma. "And now, as they say in Mercia, _voila_!" At this there was a flicker of movement.

And Knuckles gasped.

The intruder unclasped a cloak and flung it over his shoulders it with a single motion of his arm, seeming to materialize out of the very air, as if the night itself had been some tangible thing which he had worn. Knuckles marveled at the skill any being would have to have to hide from even his penetrating eyes. _Whoever this is, he's good. Really good,_ Knuckles thought, clicking his tongue in admiration.

The Eggrobos showed no such regard for the artistry of the intruder's appearance. To them there was nothing to say about the newcomer except _"Surrender in the name of Lord Robotnik."_

"Sorry," the new arrival said in a tone that made clear he was not. "Can't do that."

Predictably, the Eggrobos opened fire, and Knuckles' brief acquaintance with the most recent intruder on his island ended in a blast of laserfire which, when it was done, left no memorial to the stranger other than a smoking indentation at the dune's crest.

_Well, nice knowing you,_ Knuckles thought with a mixture of disdain and disappointment as he stared at the spot where the stranger had been standing. _Damn shame your survival skills weren't on par with… what the Hell?_

Knuckles lowered his eyes back to his Eggrobo captors to find the stranger standing behind the central of the three, holding one finger over his lips in a conspiratorial shushing gesture. The two flanking Eggrobos, oblivious to the seemingly impossible presence of their erstwhile target, returned to their feet and trained their weapons back on Knuckles.

_"Such is the fate of all who defy the metallic god,"_ the center Eggrobo said self-assuredly. _"This end was inevitable."_

Knuckles nodded. "Y'got that one right, you bionic bitch," Knuckles snarled. The eggrobos' linguistic processors had just enough time to compute that this was not the expected response and did, in fact, indicate an unknown threat before their domed heads were shorn from their bodies as though their joints had been made of tin foil. At the sight of it, Knuckles finally realized the toll the stress of his pursuit had taken upon his senses. _I must be hallucinating,_ he told himself, for his eyes assured him that the newcomer had done this with merely a flick of his wrist.

With their heads gone, the eggrobos stood for another moment before collapsing in a heap at Knuckles' feet. "Right where such invaders of Angel Island belong, wouldn't you say?" the stranger asked with a companionable smile which was quickly replaced by the neutral look of one who is concerned for someone who may not require concern. "And don't worry, their friends won't be a threat to us. I've made sure of that. Are you well?"

"I'm alive," Knuckles said guardedly, unwilling to disclose too much information. _Lifesaver or not, he's an unknown on my island, and this isn't a good time for that. _With the cloak gone, and with him standing right in front of him, Knuckles could see that the intruder was a black-furred fox, apparently a little older than he was. He wore dark blue leather gloves, like the working gloves of a self-made aristocrat, and shin-high boots to match. The cloak, which now hung cape-like from his shoulders, was clasped at his throat by a gold ornament reminiscent of a coin. His right hand rested, curled into a loose fist, on his hip. His left was hung lazily at his side. His lips were curled into a look that could have been a smirk or a sneer, depending on the light, and his eyes were half-closed, nearly concealing blue irises several shades too dark for Knuckles to think them natural. And yet the feature that stood out the most to Knuckles, and for reasons he couldn't adequately explain, was the three-pointed tuft of unruly fur that pointed forward from the top of his head, similar to what Humans called a 'cowlick.' Knuckles had an uncanny feeling he had seen this interloper before."Listen, stranjah. Not t'sound ungrateful or anythin', but-"

"But who am I?" The stranger finished with a grin. "In good time, Guardian. First, business."

Knuckles straightened out his back, forcing himself to stand as tall as weariness and injuries would allow. "Business?"

The fox nodded. "Your Island is about to have visitors."

"Koinda looks like it already has 'em if y'ask me."

That prompted a cheery laugh from the fox. "Indeed, indeed. But I mean of a different sort. I trust you remember a pair of off-landers named Sonic and Miles?"

Knuckles nodded, his eyes betraying a brief glimmer of excitement at the prospect of getting to work alongside these two again. As rivals, they had been an exhilarating test of skill, and as allies they and Knuckles had been a force that not even Chaos, the God of Destruction, had been able to match. Furthermore, they had become something the last of the Knuckles Clan never thought he would have: friends. _Careful, Guardian,_ Knuckles reminded himself. _They're fine people to be sure, but the fewer people on the island, the better._ "Aye, Oi know of 'em, but I'd 'ate to be the poor soul that gets caught callin' Tails 'Miles.' "

"Tails then," the fox nodded, his face darkening as he drew in a deep breath. "Then you remember one called Robotnik as well?" The cracking of Knuckles' knuckles was all the answer the fox needed. "As you may have already gathered, the last will soon return to the island in force."

"And Oi'm guessing from y'bringin' it up that Ol' blue-bolt and the whirlin' wondah are one they-ah way to try 'n' stop 'im?" Knuckles' response was not exactly a question, but the fox looked away.

"Well, yes. Sonic is on his way to stop Robotnik," the fox replied.

_But not Tails?_ "Then Sonic's comin' alone?"

The fox took a step toward Knuckles, and Knuckles instinctively coiled his muscles slightly, preparing for a possible attack. If the fox noticed, he made no indication. "You consider them friends, do you not?" Knuckles momentarily weighed his responses, deciding how much truth it was safe to disclose. In the end, the fox denied him the need to decide by continuing before he could answer. "Guardian, I must be plain. Sonic and his fellows' mission here" (_his fellows?_ Knuckles thought) "is a rescue mission. Miles has been…" the fox took another deep breath, speaking as one unwilling to accept the news he bore, "captured."

Knuckles' heart instantly turned itself to thoughts of vengeance. He knew all-too-well what capture by Robotnik's forces meant, and no matter how briefly he had known Tails, the thought of a cub meeting the end of his free days in a roboticizer grated against all that was noble within him. This passed quickly, however, as he considered the further implications of the fox's statement. _If he's been roboticized already, then rescue is irrelevant._ "And why's 'Botnik bringin' a captured rebel 'ere?"

The fox paused at this, as if deciding himself how much to disclose. "Robotnik has discovered a latent power within young Prower, and that's what brings me to my business with you," he said at length. "Sonic's band means to take him back to their hideaway, but… well, I'm afraid it's no longer safe for him there?"

Knuckles thought back on his conversations with Sonic about Knothole, a village so hidden he had not even been willing to share its location with Knuckles except to say it was somewhere in the Great Forest. "You mean Knothole's been found?"

The fox grinned, a condescending grin contrary to anything Knuckles had observed about him so far. "No, not exactly," the fox said before his grin faded. "But to be plain, if Miles goes back there it will be. After all, a power like the one Robotnik has discovered will not be so easy to hide, especially for one so untrained in its use."

Knuckles crossed his arms, beginning to grow weary with the stranger's apparent way of approaching his point and then backing off. "Alroight, stranjah. What is it exactly that y'want me t'do, and why exactly am I gonna do it?"

The fox smiled, an authentic smile (_or at least more convincing than the last,_ Knuckles thought cautiously). "Straight to the point, is it? I like that."

"Glad y'approve. On wit' it."

"Of course, Guardian. Your pardon for not being more succinct." With this apology, the fox went on. "I need you to rescue Miles before Sonic and his band do, and bring him to me. I can take him to a place where he'll be safer, and where this new power of his can be properly trained."

Knuckles recoiled a step, struck by the oddity of his request. "And what mikes you think Oi'm gonna kidnap Tails from 'is kidnappah just so I can hand 'im ovah t'you?"

In response, the fox merely met Knuckles' eyes directly. "Guardian, you must trust me on this. It's imperative, for the safety of Mobius."

"Y'know, Oi've heard a line similah t'that one before," Knuckles responded pertly. "It came from a bloke called Robotnik. Besides that, Oi still don't know what this 'new powah' that you keep talkin' about even is."

"He's an Ancient One, Guardian," the fox said squarely, pausing a moment to let it sink in before adding, "as am I."

Knuckles first thought was to deny this statement, a near-blasphemy to a race so devoted to the Chaos Emeralds which the Ancient Ones were said to have created, and tear the blasphemer's head from his shoulders. Then he remembered the seemingly unnatural way he had appeared out of thin air, his miraculous survival of the Eggrobos' laser barrage, and the way he had dismembered the Eggrobo's with seemingly nothing more than a wave of his hand. _Not to mention, it would explain how he got here, and why he knows so much about me._ As hard as Knuckles fought to deny it, the stranger's explanation made sense. Immediately, Knuckles dropped to one knee, lowering his eyes. "F'give my mannah in addressing you, Ancient. You honah me and my oyland with your presence."

"You're forgiven," the fox spoke with an air of (_smugness?)_ regality. "Rise, Blessed Guardian of this Most Blessed of Islands."

Knuckles rose, and with some hesitation, returned his eyes to the Ancient One's face, where he found his attention drawn once more (and just as unexplainably) to the few unruly strands of fur atop the visitor's head before returning his mind to matters of greater import. "And so you say Tails… Miles… is one of your kind as well?"

The fox nodded. "Truly. I've been searching for him for some time, too."

Before Knuckles could restrain himself, he let slip a question which seemed, after thought, to be a bit pert, if only in its terseness. "Why?"

The Ancient One showed no signs of offense at Knuckles' forwardness. "Well, in point of fact, Guardian, because along with my… estranged uncle, Miles is my only surviving relative." Before Knuckles could inquire further he answered, "he's my younger brother."

_Of course,_ Knuckles berated himself for not realizing it sooner. _That lock of hair. It's the same as Tails'. That's why he seemed familiar. But…_ "f'give me, but 'your only surviving relative?' Survivah of what?" The dark cloud which momentarily overtook the Ancient One's face made Knuckles instantly desire to withdraw the question.

"Don't worry about that," the Ancient One said in what was almost a snap. Then he repeated, a bit more softly. "Don't worry about that, Guardian. You needn't trouble yourself with the problems of the world beyond this one when this one's problems are so sufficient to themselves. And speaking of which, I need to know if I can count on you to do what I've asked."

For an Echidna who has heard the voice of one of his gods, there was only one answer to that. "It'll be done, by moy life or death. Oi'll see him rescued, and reunited with you."

The Ancient One nodded, smiling. "I knew I could trust a Guardian. I'll take my leave of you now, for I'm sure you have much to do. When you've rescued my brother, bring him to the Hidden Palace. I'll be waiting for you there." He reached for his cloak as if to wrap it around himself again.

"Wait," Knuckles beseeched, holding out his hand as if reaching for him. "Wait, please."

"Yes?"

"Oi don't even know your name?"

The Ancient One smiled a bit at that. "I'm a man of many names, and just as many faces, not all as handsome as this if I do say so myself. To Mobitropolitans I was called Ixis Naugus, but here," he hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. Here, let me be as I was called at my birth. I'm Solaur Prower. Without another word he covered himself in his cloak again, disappearing into the blackness of the night as smoothly as he had appeared from it.

* * *

_Into these hallowed halls I have returned, a conqueror._ For a man with an I.Q. of 165, nine words should not have occupied a great portion of one's thoughts. But for Julian Asimov "Snively" Robotnik as he entered the bridge of the _E.G.G. Carrier_ to assume his temporary command, that brief sentence seemed to encompass all the macrocosm of space and time. An eggrobo more than twice his height with the silver eagle emblem of a colonel on its "lapel" (which was truly just part of its decal) snapped to and rendered a salute to the tiny man as he walked through the massive metallic doorway, and Snively returned the salute with a degree of self-assuredness that almost lent gravitas to his diminutive frame. "Is my uncle's flagship ready, Colonel?" _There,_ he thought with an avaricious grin._ Let them note that: not 'the Doctor's flagship,' but 'my uncle's flagship.' Let no one forget who the soon-to-be-undisputed heir to the throne is._

"_The E.G.G. Carrier is battle-ready and fully at your command, sir,"_ the Eggrobocolonel answered formally. _"Orders?"_

"Initiate pre-launch sequence, Colonel," Snively said off-handedly as he approached the massive, swiveling armchair at the center of the bridge. Before sitting down, though, he took a moment to run his fingers along an arm of the chair, savoring everything about it: it's texture, the scent of its upholstery, even relishing the tactical displays that would seem menial any other day. These displays were for a Commander's eyes only. _For MY eyes today,_ the thought gave him an almost sensual glee. _At last I have my chance. All that's left is to get rid of 'Rocket and Rodent.' Speaking of which…_ "Colonel?"

"_Yes sir?"_

"First, open communications with the A.I. Project control room," Snively amended his previous order, finally taking his seat at the Command Station. "And patch it through to my station." The words 'my station' were drawn out with a sigh.

_"Aye, Commander Snively,"_ the colonel said, saluting again.

Snively's head snapped with unforgiving ferocity toward the Eggrobo. "_What_ did you call me, Colonel?"

"_Commander Sniv-"_

"You realize, I'm sure," Snively interrupted, cutting off the droid before it could utter the full nickname, "that with the ship's computer programmed to accept my voice authorization I could order you to shut down and your processor would not allow you to refuse."

"_Yes, Commander,"_ theeggrobo responded uncertainly.

"Then mark my words, Snively hissed corrosively, "and mark them well. My name is Julian Asimov Robotnik, and I _will_ be addressed by my proper surname. Do I make myself one THOUSAND percent silicon-crystal-clear, war-droid?"

If Eggrobos had been manufactured with the capacity to gulp, Snively felt sure he would have just witnessed one do so as the colonel replied, "_clear as transparisteel, Commander Robotnik."_

"Splendid," Snively spat, his eyes still aimed at the colonel as though to set it afire with their very gaze. "Now carry out my orders. And when that is done, inform your second-in-command that he is to assume your duties for the duration of my command. And if you value the ill-begotten self-awareness programming that passes for your life then do not, for _any _reason, enter my sight again. Am I understood?"

"_Completely, Commander,"_ the eggrobo responded immediately, still not having dropped the salute that accompanied its near-fatal linguistic error. "_Further orders, sir?"_

Snively remained silent for several seconds, desiring for the droid to witness first-hand what the entry in its databanks titled "fear" was, before returning a hasty salute. "None," he snarled, turning his head back around toward the front of the bridge. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "and make sure your replacement is better-versed than you were in proper protocol when addressing his commander."

_"Aye, Commander,_" the colonel responded, with relief making itself evident in its voice, for this last was said immediately before the bridge doors closed behind him, sealing him off from further contact with the one who would, in his memory banks, be forever remembered as 'Commander Robotnik.'


	14. Chapter Twelve

**A Word From the Author: Greetings, all. This update comes sooner than most. For some reason, it simply seemed to flow better than the ones before it. As for its content, its finally getting down to the crux of the story, that is, the Angel Island show-down where the A.I. Project somehow launches the cast into the increasingy mentioned 'Vanguard War.' I have to confess, if you're a Sonamy fan and have not given up on this SatAM based story by now, this chapter will both thrill you and annoy you at the same time. All-in-all, there's little to say about this chapter other than "here it its, ladies and gents, at long last." Reader, enjoy. If I do say so myself, I did.**

Chapter Twelve: Freedom Stormin'

A lot can change in a week.

A week before, the A.I. Project had been nothing more than a suspicious-looking intelligence file on N.I.C.O.L.E's hard drive with a "to watch" tag on it. A week before, the Ancient Ones had been little more than myths, in which few of the Freedom Fighters believed. A week before, Orana, Solyurus and Isaac had still been in disguise as nothing more than a colorfully-plumed family of birds.

A week before, Station Square had still been populated, Tails had been free, Uncle Chuck had been alive, and Sally Acorn had been the one person Sonic could trust for anything and everything.

_Yeah_, Sonic thought with a snort as he unceremoniously tossed his hastily-packed backpack, containing nothing but four Power Rings, his communicator, and a few G.U.N. Field Rations (courtesy of Viceroy Drake), into the cargo hold of the _Tornado_, the biplane he and Tails had hijacked from Robotropolis during their failed first mission to destroy the Death Egg. _A lot can change in a week_. The backpack landed on top of the other three packs piled there with a dull and disinterested thump which, in the silence of the pre-dawn quasi-light, seemed as deflated as the morale of the Freedom Fighters. The mission Squad for this assignment, Sally had decided, would consist of Sonic, Sally, Rotor and Bunnie, leaving Antoine as the senior Freedom Fighter until their return. Choosing who would go had not been difficult. The seating arrangements, however, had been a different story.

The _Freedom Stormer_, Rotor's jury-rigged collection of various and sundry spare parts which never ceased to amaze Sonic with its ability to take off, let alone fly, could easily have carried the four of them to Angel Island. But given the _Tornado_'s combat record, most of it with Tails at the stick, it was agreed that the biplane would be an invaluable asset if it came to a showdown with Task Force E.G.G. On the other hand, the _Tornado_ had space for only the pilot and one passenger, so the _Freedom Stormer_ was chosen as the additional "troop transport." Sonic, it was decided, would pilot the _Tornado_. That was when the arguing began.

Rotor had, with Bunnie's full agreement, decided that he and Bunnie should ride aboard the _Freedom Stormer_, leaving Sonic and Sally to the _Tornado_. Sonic immediately rebuffed that the other three should all take the _Stormer_, leaving him to himself aboard the _Tornado_, saying he needed time to think. The more Sally insisted that Rotor's idea had been the best (even though she knew Rotor and Bunnie had reasons in mind other than the mission), the more vehemently Sonic insisted on taking the _Tornado_ alone. Finally, after Sally's insistence that the team should be divided evenly between the two craft in the event one were shot down, Sonic consented. "Alright," he'd said with a coldness he partly regretted. "The Rote-man's with me, and you girls can take the _Stormer_."

The message had not been lost on any of them.

Though visibly hurt by Sonic's remark, and though neither Bunnie nor Sally really felt up to piloting the _Freedom Stormer_, Sally had agreed to the arrangement. Anything for the mission. And with that, it seemed, they were ready to make preparations. It had been Bunnie, later that day, who cornered Sonic and berated him in that manner that every teenage girl reserves for her best friend's idiot boyfriend, asking if he ever loved Sally then how could he stab her in the heart at a time like this, and insisting among other things that Sally had more than enough to worry about without Sonic's tantrum. The straw that had broken the hedgehog's back, of course, had been "whatever problems you two are having, save 'em fore after the mission!" At that, Sonic had consented to allow Sally to ride in the _Tornado_.

"The mission," Sonic muttered as he slammed the cargo hold shut. "The gods-damned mission!" The last word was emphasized with a sharp kick to the fuselage, a kick which did more damage to Sonic's toe than to its target. The mission was what Uncle Chuck had always talked about when he insisted on staying in Robotropolis. The mission was what had led Sally to pick Tails for a trip to Robotropolis. And now where were they? "And who else is gonna have to take the fall for 'the mission,' Sal?" Sonic asked the air. "Bunnie? Rotor? Me? And for what?" _All your efforts, all your sacrifices, all you've lost in your little rebellion against Lord Robotnik, all so you can build your precious 'Republic of Acorneria?' You fight a so-called tyrant so you can set another up in his place, Hedgehog._ Metal Sonic's words sounded in Sonic's mind as clearly as the day he'd heard them, and he shuddered. At the time, he had denied the robot's accusations, swearing his devotion to Sally not for her title, but because he loved her. Now, though, they had begun to make sense, and Sonic was not sure what frightened him more: the fact that he and Metal Sonic were starting to agree, or what they agreed about. "Well, either way," Sonic vowed, "once this… this mission is over, and we've got Tails back, we're through, Princess. I can bust up Butt-nik's plans just fine on my own, and I can do it without asking anyone to die for me."

* * *

While Sonic brooded over the past week's events and waited for the dawn to arrive so the four Freedom Fighters could be underway, the three Ketsunae youths sat on the shores of Power Ring Lake, considering their next move, oblivious to the plight of the hedgehog in the hangar on the opposite side of the village.

"I can't believe the Elder isn't allowing us to go with them," Solyurus said bluntly, tossing a rock into the lake in a manner which, had Sonic been there, would have been all-too-familiar. "I mean, aren't we already involved? And isn't Prower's nephew one of us?"

"Don't be so quick to answer that question for yourself, Sol," Isaac pointed out, "until you know how Miles would answer it."

"What's that supposed to mean, Isaac?"

Isaac's reply was so delayed Solyurus began to feel he was being ignored. "I don't know," he finally said with a sigh. "It just seems like what Elder Prower would say if he were here."

"Yeah, but he's not," Solyurus said flatly. "While we're on that subject, Isaac-"

"Oh, not again, Solyurus," Orana pleaded.

Orana's plea seemed only to fuel Solyurus's indignation. "It doesn't make any sense, you two. He appears to Isaac, stops him from doing anything to get us out of Robotnik's stronghold while these mortals do the work for him, tells them about Miles' roots, insists they rescue him, and then disappears again, leaving us here. And nobody finds this a little, I dunno, _strange_?"

"He has a purpose, Solyurus," Isaac spoke with the air of one participating in a familiar argument. "You have to trust that."

"I'd have an easier time trusting him if he let me in on a few of the details about what exactly he expects us to do in the meantime," was Solyurus' reply.  
"He expects us to wait."

"Yeah, wait," Solyurus sneered. "Wait, and leave a situation like this in the hands of mortals. We're talking about Miles Prower here, Sol. You know, the Nine-tailed's nephew? Probably more powerful untrained than any of us are trained."

"That's not certain," Orana insisted.

"And what if things go wrong and he can't control that power," Solyurus, full of steam, plowed on. "Or if his brother finds him first? Isaac, what are mortals doing even involved in this? This is a Ketsunae matter."

"The Vanguard War has always been a Ketsunae matter, Solyurus," Isaac answered. "And it's always been foretold that it would be fought by mortals. Why should this time be any different?" It was not until he observed the stunned silence that fell over Orana and Solyurus that Isaac realized he had spoken too soon.

"The Vanguard War," Orana whispered as if afraid the words would cause calamity if spoken too loudly. "Is that… is that what…"

"Impossible," Solyurus spat. "You met those people, Isaac. They're our age. What can they have to do with a battle as big as the clash with Bao'zar?"

"Solaur is our age," Isaac countered. "And I'd say he had plenty to do with Bao'zar. Besides, Princess Acorn and her followers have been fighting for years, young or not."

Solyurus' face twisted into a knot of disgust. "Yeah, against another mortal. What's he compared to the last of the Chae-Dan? Do you honestly-"

"The Elder gave us our orders!" Isaac shouted, silencing Solyurus. Then, as if to smooth over what he feared would become an infected rift in their friendship, he began more softly. "If it makes you feel any better, he left me other instructions."

At first Solyurus seemed to dismiss this statement, but something in Isaac's eyes told him there was more to it than it seemed. Finally, Orana made the connection for him. "You _are_ going to aid, aren't you," she asked excitedly.

"I can't say," Isaac replied quickly. "And if I told you, it would only make you angrier."

Solyurus uttered a sound that was a mix of a groan and a sigh, throwing his hands over his head and falling back onto the rocks with a flop. "Why does that fail to surprise me, Isaac?"

Isaac shrugged and started to speak. Before he was able to begin, however, the sound of approaching footfalls on the rocks silenced all discussion, save for a hurried "we'll talk later," from Solyurus, who was back on his feet. All three eyes turned toward the source of the footsteps, peering into the treeline for a glimpse of the newcomer, but the combination of fog and a barely-awakened son made it impossible to see.

They were feminine steps, Isaac felt sure. They were soft, and there was a timidity to them. which he associated with a small child sneaking into her parents' bedroom after a nightmare. _Probably nothing dangerous, _he assured himself. Nonetheess, he sensed Orana and Solyurus's energy auras beginning to flare.

Slowly, a shadow began to emerge from the trees, then to take form as it cut through the fog. It was a young hedgehog. Finally, it took on color, and Isaac began to recognize the visitor. "Good morning, Miss Rose," he called out, intending less to greet her than to assure Solyurus and Orana that there was nothing to fear. "Aren't you up a little early?"

Amy Rose approached the three without making eye contact, hands clasped nervously behind her back. "I… I'm sorry to bother you," she whispered. "I can come back later if that, I mean, if this is a bad time. Or, if you-"

"It's alright, Amy," Isaac spoke soothingly. "Now's just fine. What's bothering you?"

Seemingly spurred on by Isaac's question, Amy finally raised her eyes, unclasping her hands and let them dangle at her sides. Then, deciding this was too clumsy, she clasped them in front of her. "Umm, Mister Eldritch, I just… I mean…" After a silence, she apparently decided the direct way was the best way. "Is it true that Miles, _my _Miles, is… is one of you? Is it really true?"

Isaac nodded slowly. "It's true," he answered neutrally, not certain what kind of reaction this would induce.

Amy nodded, seeming to accept this. Her next question, which took several moments to muster the courage to ask, came across far more accusingly than she had intended. "Then why aren't any of you going with Sonic and the others on the mission?"

Had Isaac turned his head toward Solyurus, he would have found the latter giving him a flagrant 'I-told-you-so' glare. Partly aware that this would be the case, Isaac avoided Solyurus' gaze. "The princess didn't ask for our aid," Isaac answered with a matter-of-fact manner that he hoped was believable.

"But… you're going to do _something_, aren't you?" Amy pleaded, her eyes beginning to moisten with tears. "I mean, you're not just going to leave him. If… if anything happened to Miles…" she found herself unable to finish that thought.

_Ah, so that's how it is,_ Isaac thought, noticing the tears that formed at the corners of the young hedgehog's eyes when she mentioned Miles' name. _When she realized her hero was taken, she transplanted her affections to his sidekick. _"Miss Rose, try to understand. We have a code of ethics that must be observed. We can't interfere in the affairs of non-Ketsunae unless we are asked."

"Then I'm asking you," Amy cried out without even realizing she intended to do it. Then, as if rethinking her question, she went on. "I… I mean… please."

"It isn't that simple," Isaac insisted. "You're not a leader of your people."

"Please," Amy begged, clutching Isaac's arm as he started to turn away. "So I'm not a leader. Fine. You're supposed to be gods, right? So do the gods only hear the prayers of royalty?"

Isaac made no response. There was, it seemed, nothing to say.

Amy looked at each of the three in turn, seeking some glimmer of hope, some look of reassurance, anything. All she saw, however, were the three Ketsunae turning their heads away in shame. "You don't care." She spoke this as one who has discovered one of the subtle truths of the universe. "None of you care about Tails, do you? Not even your own kind." There was a silence in which it seemed she was going to walk away. Instead, she held her hands out to her sides desperately. "I love him!" She shouted. "Don't you understand that?" More silence followed. "No. No, I guess you don't, do you? You can't understand. How could the gods possibly understand what it's like to know someone you care about is being used as some kind of living battery?"

At this, Isaac froze. _Yes,_ he reminded himself. _Yes, I do know what that's like… And as a matter of fact, if it hadn't been for you… but no. I have my orders. I have my orders not to get involved beyond…_

…_To the Void with my orders. This is Amy Rose._ "Amy," Isaac began, stepping cautiously toward her. "You don't remember me, do you?"

Amy looked confused. "Remember you?"

"I didn't expect you to, truly. I didn't look like this when we met last."

Amy shook her head, recoiling a step. "You, you must be mistaken," she stammered. "I've never met-"

Isaac held up a calming hand to silence her objections. "We have, Miss Rose. We met in Station Square."

Amy's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"You helped me then," Isaac pressed on. "You fought a metallic monster called 'Zero.' Do you remember?"

"I remember Zero, but…" in the midst of her denial, Amy realized what it was she was being told. "The… the bird!"

Isaac nodded. "That's right. The bird. You helped reunite me with those who were dear to me." He took another step toward the girl as he continued, in a voice too low for Orana and Solyurus to hear. "And you may rest assured of this, Miss Rose. Isaac Eldritch always pays his debts."

Slowly, with complete trust, Amy nodded.

"But you have to promise me one thing," Isaac said before Amy could speak.

"Anything," was the immediate answer.

Confident that he had the girl's attention, Isaac spoke more plainly, in a voice that allowed no debate. "Tell no one. _No one_. Understood?"

"But why is-" Amy started to protest.

"Promise me this, Amy," Isaac insisted. "For Tails' sake, promise me."

That was all the motivation Amy needed. "I promise, Mister Eldritch." Then, with a knowing grin, she whispered, "Mister Bird."

Isaac grinned back, sharing in the joke, before stepping away to rejoin Orana and Solyurus. "Friends," he said, addressing them. "I think we've been too long here in Knothole. Besides," he looked back toward the twins as he said this. "We have one of our own to rescue."

"Now you're talking!" Solyurus cheered.

Amy watched with barely containable joy as three orbs of light, one pink, one blue and one gray, began to glow in the places where the three Ketsunae stood. She continued to watch as the orbs grew brighter and brighter, finally eclipsing the three Ketsunae. At last, as she still watched, the orbs streaked skyward without a sound, leaving only empty air where the three had been standing. And yet, as the glimmering points of light disappeared into the polluted haze of the distant sky, she felt a tear that was not one of joy slide down the side of her face. And with it, a question: a question as unwelcome as it was incongruous with the seeming realities of the moment.

_Why do I still feel like he's not coming home?_

* * *

The newest colonel in the Eggrobo corps stepped onto the bridge of _E.G.G. Carrier 2_ with his report cradled almost lovingly in the crook of his elbow. His other hand rested conspicuously on the butt of his plasma pistol. Commander Robotnik, the creator's nephew, had left strict orders: anyone, living or droid, who attempted to read the contents of the report was to be neutralized on the spot. The colonel himself knew only that the report pertained to the A.I. Project, for which Commander Robotnik was solely and completely responsible, answering only to Lord Ivo, the Creator-Emperor himself. In the unused directories of his brain, where he had room for idle thoughts, the colonel wondered at the reason for the secrecy. Or, more to the point, at its specific nature. The verbal order which had been processed as the command for secrecy recycled itself within the robot's memory banks, subjected to further analysis with each repetition.

"No one, especially Commander Metal, is to read this report. And should my uncle command to see it, I am to be informed immediately." That had been the order, and the robot's voice-stress analyzers showed a 98 percent probability that the commander was hiding something. This was not what troubled the colonel. It was, after all, a commander's prerogative to exercise a certain discretion with regard to the disclosure of information, especially classified information. Nor was it the commander's insistence on keeping the data from the eyes of Metal Sonic that bothered the colonel. Indeed, a certain amount of intrigue among the upper echelons of the Empire had become accepted practice, and the rivalry between the Creator-Emperor's nephew and his most feared creation was common knowledge.

The datum that reasserted itself as a warning sign to the colonel's multi-faceted CPU was the commander's insistence on being informed if his uncle read the data. After all, did the commander not intend to simply relay the information himself? And if the information were to reach the Creator-Emperor before the commander's report, why would this be of such import to the commander? His analytical subroutines came to only one conclusion, a conclusion that was rejected by his doctrinal subroutines as 'illogical:' the commander was hiding information from the Creator-Emperor.

It was, however, of little consequence now, as the Eggrobo colonel approached the command chair at the center of the warship's bridge. In a moment, the report would be handed over to Snively, the colonel's undisputed superior. After that, the colonel's involvement in the matter would be complete, and it would no longer be his concern. _"The report on the A.I. Project, as ordered, Commander,"_ the colonel said with a sharp salute as he came within arm's length of the commander's chair.

"Yes, the report," the commander answered, lazily reaching his hand forth and taking the datapad from the droid and reading it out loud. "Ah, splendid. The device's components are completely assembled, and will be ready for construction as soon as we reach Angel Island. "As he spoke, he pressed the fingertips of both his hands together in what was no doubt an imitation of his uncle's mannerism. "That's good. That's very good indeed. All that's needed now is-" He was prevented from saying what was needed by the familiar irate beep from his console that indicated an incoming transmission. "Oh, bloody hell, what now?" He murmured as he glanced at the console. _Incoming Message,_ read the status bar. And in the bar labeled 'source:' _E.G.G. Carrier 1._ "Of all the times…" With a grunt of disgust, Snively keyed in the authorization code to open the incoming transmission. Instantly, the screen on the arm of his chair displayed the glowering visage of dr. Robotnik himself.

"Your progress, Snively?"

Snively's demeanor changed in an eyeblink to one more reminiscent of a half-starved rat than a newly appointed commander. "P…progress, sir?"

"The A.I. Project, cretin!" Robotnik bellowed, accompanied by the sound of a metallic fist thudding against the arm of a chair.

"Oh! Oh, y-y-yes, sir. That. Well, em, sir, laboratory reports indicate that construction on the device's components has hit an unexpected delay, sir."

"Snively!"

"Oh, b-b-but nothing to fret about, s-sir. The portal aperture will be ready for construction in, ah," as one hand flew to his collar, which suddenly seemed inordinately tight, the other picked up the datapad, which Snively then scanned with his eyes. "In forty-eight hours, sir."

"Forty-eight hours!" Robotnik hissed. "Damn your eyes, Snively, we'll reach Angel Island in less then twenty-four!"

"P-p-perhaps, sir, I could decrease the time frame to thirty-six hours," Snively pleaded in the manner for which he had received his nickname.

Robotnik ground his superconductive teeth loudly enough that Snively felt sure he could have heard them without the aid of the video transmitter. "Thirty-six hours then, Snively. But mark this. I will tolerate absolutely no more delays. Do we understand one another, my _dear _nephew?"

"Perfectly, s-s-sir."

"Marvelous. _E.G.G. Carrier_ 1 out." In a moment, Robotnik's face disappeared from the screen.

The colonel, who had stood in respectful silence throughout the conversation, now spoke. _"Sir, requesting permission to report to maintenance for an auditory diagnostic."_

"The reason being?" Snively demanded, returning to his former demeanor.

"_Before Lord Robotnik's transmission, my memory banks indicate that you stated the A.I. Project's components were complete, and the device would be ready for construction upon arrival at Angel Island. But during the conversation-"_

"Yes, yes," Snively nodded his agreement. "An annoying little slip, that. I liked you better than your predecessor. Unfortunately, I can't have you going about and letting my uncle know more than is good for him, now can I? Computer," Snively began issuing a command directly to the ship's control core. The colonel realized mere nanoseconds before the command was completely spoken that he was the victim of a forbidden enterprise. Unfortunately for the colonel, the nature of the command would have denied him recourse even had he realized sooner. "Activate command droid's auto-shutdown sequence with complete memory purge." Four point nine seconds after making his request for an auditory diagnostic, the colonel's internal power core self-ruptured, surging positronic electricity through its neurocircuitry and erasing the only records of Snively's deception.

* * *

The two aircraft which had been jokingly dubbed the 'Acornerian Air Force,' a name which one needn't wonder did very little to ease the growing rift between Sonic and Sally, departed Knothole's makeshift airfield an hour after dawn, as planned. They flew at a painstakingly slow speed and low altitude to the coast where the Great Forest met the Oil Ocean (which had once been the Green Sea, before Robotnik's takeover and the subsequent pollution), thereby evading radar stations in Robotropolis, as planned. They maintained radio silence in case any of Robotnik's patrols happened to wander out farther than usual, as planned. As planned, there were no such patrols to worry about. Only two things did not go according to the carefully laid plans of the Freedom Fighters.

The first was the weather, which, in a twist of irony which Sally could not help but chuckle at in spite of herself, seemed to have taken a vested interest in making the flight to Angel Island intolerable for the occupants of the aircraft named for storms. A particularly vicious rain plagued the twin craft for the first hour and a half of the trip, bringing into dazzling focus the design flaw in both planes' designs: the open canopy. After this passed came the wind; a sharp, pre-cyclonic tropical wind, whose chill was only made worse by the quartet's soaking wet fur. The second thing which did not go according to plan was the so-fought-over seating arrangements, and for Sonic and Sally, this had been the source of the real storm.

During the moments immediately preceding take-off, as Sally had been about to climb into the pilot's seat of the _Freedom Stormer_ (Bunnie was already in place in one of the passenger berths), Rotor had, with a speed Sally had not thought the rotund walrus capable of, vaulted over the side of the plane and into the pilot's seat, sputtering a quick-fired and incomprehensible series of excuses mostly centered around a concern that Bunnie might require maintenance along the way. A glance at Bunnie's reddened face left little doubt as to the nature of this 'maintenance,' and Sally had tried to argue. Rotor had, however, already started up the craft's engines by that point, making his 'sorry, can't hear you' gestures plausible enough that Sally dared not argue further, especially when time was so certainly of the essence. And so, dodging no small share of displeased looks from Sonic, Sally had been left with little choice but to ride 'shotgun' with Sonic in the _Tornado_'s single Starboard-placed passenger seat.

The trip had, so far, gone without any harsh words passing between them. _Of course,_ Sally reminded herself as she wiped the last remnants of rain off of N.I.C.O.L.E with a survival blanket, _that's because it's passed with barely any words between us at all. I'd almost prefer an argument to this._ "Well, looks like the storm has passed," Sally said as the clouds began to thin into streaks, admitting the first errant rays of sunlight, dazzling streaks of split red and blue from the twin suns' light passing through the polluted upper atmosphere.

"Yeah. Looks like it," Sonic remarked in a tone which Sally thought would have sounded alarmingly like a SWATbot if it had contained slightly more emotion.

"I, uh, suppose it will be smooth flying from here," she pressed on, hoping to strike a conversation, by small talk at least, if subtlety failed.

"Never can tell," Sonic replied in the same manner as before, his eyes never leaving the horizon in front of him.

After a long silence, Sally answered "too true," and put down the survival blanket, placing a now-dried N.I.C.O.L.E back into her boot-holster. "Well, I can't come up with anything we haven't considered in the mission briefing, and there doesn't seem to be anything useful I can do with the time between here and Angel Island, so-"

"Then you probably better get some shut-eye," Sonic interrupted.

The remark stung more than Sally was willing to show, and for a moment she said nothing. "Actually, I got plenty of sleep last night," she answered finally. Sonic only shrugged, so Sally went on. "I, uh… I thought it might give us a chance to talk."

"'Bout what?"

Sally considered her response carefully. _He's been through a lot, even more than the rest of us. How soon is too soon?_ "Well…" she shifted in her seat, turning her entire body until she faced Sonic, her left arm draped along the back of the plane's metal body. "About trying to fix what's been falling apart since we got back from Robotropolis."

After a pause, Sonic smirked. "Nah. No worries, Sal."

Sally's eyes took on a light that they had not shone for days. "You, you mean that?"

"Sure I do," Sonic answered nonchalantly. Then, as he turned to face Sally, she saw that the cocky grin was merely a parody of its former self, and it did not extend to his eyes. "I mean, it looks to me like N.I.C.O.L.E.'s totally A-Okay." Saying this his grin faded, and he turned his head back toward the horizon.

For almost a minute, there was silence between them again. "You know, Sonic," Sally finally said in a voice that laid bare the pain she felt at this treatment, "you can be really cruel sometimes."

"Yeah? Well you'd be the one who knows, wouldn't you, _Your Highness_?" The last two words, which Sally had heard from Sonic a number of times in her life that she could count one-handed, were hissed in a voice so thick with resentment that Sally knew immediately there would likely be no fixing their relationship.

_Still I've got to try._ "Sonic," she said as tenderly as she dared, "talk to me. What's this really about?"

By way of an answer, Sonic asked a question of his own. "What did they die for?"

"Who?"

"Who?" Sonic repeated incredulously. "All of 'em, princess! Catski, Dulcy, Uncle Chuck," each name was delivered more heavily than the one before, driving memories into Sally's heart like knives.

"They died for the cause, Sonic," Sally answered, completely unaware that these were possibly the worst words she could possibly have chosen.

"Yeah, that's right," Sonic remarked, snapping his fingers as if remembering something that had been right on the tip of his tongue. "The cause. I forgot. The Acornerian cause."

From the way Sonic emphasized the word 'Acornerian,' Sally realized in an instant the mistake she had made, and how she had allowed it to go too far.

"Well, here's a question, Highness," Sonic drove on. "How many more good people are gonna have to die so you can get your kingdom back?"

Sally didn't attempt to answer Sonic's question. She had, however, found her own. "I see," she finally said, turning back toward the front of the plane. The conversation could have ended there, and she would have walked away understanding fully where she stood in Sonic's eyes. But she needed one more answer. "Sonic, I can't make you answer this, but I've got to ask. When was it, exactly, that you stopped loving… no." She shook her head. "No, that's not quite right. When did you start hating me?" the silence that followed lasted for so long that she felt certain Sonic wasn't going to answer. Finally, however, he did.

"Ask Tails."

Sally breathed a deep sigh, suddenly finding the act of breathing more difficult than it had any need to be. "I see. And I was beginning to think the only one who blamed me for Tails' capture was me."

"Yeah? Well you thought mondo-wrong, Sal." With that, the final revelation of the bitterness he felt toward the one he had only one week prior referred to as 'the woman I love,' Sonic could have let the conversation end. Like Sally, however, he could simply not allow it to end quite this way. "Dammit, Sally, when did it begin?" His former coldness was replaced in an instant by a blaze of anger. "First you kept your little secret about the Little Planet getting' hit by Death Egg's cannon, and then you let Tails go on a mission you knew was too dangerous for a rookie, then-"

"No, Sonic," Sally shouted back. "I didn't _allow_ him to go. I _ordered _him to go. So yes, it's my fault! Completely! there, are you happy? I admit it. I won't bother denying it. I never have. What do you want? For me to feel a little worse about it? Is that it? Is that what you want? Will that help?" For the first time in the conversation, Sonic winced, having been on the receiving end of a verbal sting. But Sally's heart had endured enough lashes from Sonic over the last few days that she was not satisfied. "No, Sonic," she answered for him. "It won't. It won't help, and it won't bring them back. Even if there were some way I could possibly hurt worse than I already do, it wouldn't bring them back." She was crying as she continued, no longer attempting to keep up the façade of the strength of royalty when no one was present other than the one who had seen that façade come down. "So what do you want, Sonic? Just tell me what you want from me?"

Sonic gave no reply. From the look on his face, however, Sally could tell she was no longer the only one in agony. But that, it seemed, did not change things. The die had been cast, and for Sonic and Sally it seemed, all bets were off. They both were crying now. And yet, neither of them felt any longer that they could cry on the shoulder of the other. And so they both cried, until their tears were so utterly spent that they could cry no more. Finally, wiping her tear-matted facial fur with the survival blanket she'd used to clean N.I.C.O.L.E, Sally spoke.

"Sonic, I don't think I've ever told you this. I guess I just thought you knew. I see now I was wrong, but…" she wiped a late-falling tear from her face as she continued, "I've never been interested in power, or a throne. I never wanted it. What I wanted was a future," she hesitated, putting emphasis on the next statement. "And a family.

"And I guess, well, somehow I just always thought that that family would be ours: yours and mine."

Sonic looked away before returning with one final arrow for Sally's already shattered heart. "I had a family, Sal. But they died for the Acorn cause."

At that, Sally felt Sonic would have been kinder to remove her safety harness and tip the craft, dumping her into the sea below than to say what he had just said. "Well, if it's any consolation to you, Sonic, I can promise you one thing. No one will ever have to die for the Acorn cause again." She paused, turning to look at Sonic, even knowing that he would not face her. "I can see now that was my mistake. And I promise you, the next time our cause is paid for in blood, it will be mine. And do you know what my only regret will be?" At this point, she knew better than to think Sonic would answer, or even could answer. "My only regret will be living long enough to see people look at me the way you've looked at me for the last four days."

Sonic winced again, this time stealing a glance in her direction: a glance that seemed regretful and…

_Dare I think it, apologetic?_

But at the moment when it seemed he was about to speak, Sonic froze, his eyes fixing on a point directly in front of him. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. Sally followed his gaze seeing nothing.

At first. Then…

"Hang on, Sal!" Sonic shouted as he threw the Tornado into a barrel roll just in time to avoid a head-on collision with a fast-moving orange object that had been nothing more than a spec on the horizon when he shouted. As the plane stabilized again, Sonic scanned the air around him. "Where's the _Stormer_?"

"There," Sally pointed to a position high above them and about a quarter mile west. The other plane was banking in their direction, apparently having detected the threat. "But what about that-"

"Hang on again!" Sonic interrupted, yanking back the throttle and pulling the plane into an overhead loop. As he did, Sally caught a glimpse of the orange shape again. It was an aircraft of some kind, similar in shape to one of G.U.N.'s "Eagle" fighter jets. Where the cockpit should have been, however, there was a projection reminiscent of a bird's head. "What is that thing? Some kind of new Stealthbot?"

"Nuh-uh," Sonic shouted over the roar of air flying past the two of them as he increased the _Tornado_'s speed in an attempt to keep up the fight against the mach-speed hostile. "It's a Badnik. Tails and I call this kind Balkyries, and I've only seen them around Task Force E.G.G."

"Well whatever it is," Sally said, "it's coming around to make a pass at Freedom _Stormer._ Sonic, that plane's not-"

"Know that, Sal. Chill. He won't get the chance to shoot 'em down while the hedgehog's on his ass." Sonic pressed the twin triggers on the handles of the throttle, unleashing the _Tornado_'s only weapons, a pair of forward mounted Volcan cannons. The stream of fire missed the robot, but passed close enough in front of it that it broke off its attack on the _Freedom Stormer_ to return its attention to its assailant. Unfortunately, piloting had always been more Tails' forte than Sonic's. Sonic knew no evasive maneuver other than to throw the plane into yet another roll, and the robot, anticipating this, adjusted its course left in an attempt to ram them. Sonic's reflexes were quick, and he was able to fire another volley at it as it aligned for its final run, but it was too late to prevent the collision. On sheer inertia, the robot continued along the course its engines had thrown it into. Sonic attempted to compensate by banking the opposite direction of his roll, and this kept the _Tornado_ from impacting the robotic hulk head-on. This was fortunate, since such a collision would no doubt have destroyed both craft on impact. It was not, however, a complete success. One of the robot's wings, which were sharpened to a razor's edge for this very reason, slashed open the _Tornado_'s starboard fuel tank. The _Tornado_ rocked from the impact, its consoles suddenly alive with warning lights.

"Oh, man. Mondo problemo, Sal," Sonic groaned. "That last hit got us right in the ol' fuel tank. We're losin' juice, fast."

"How much do we have left?"

"Half of the other tank."

"How far are we from Angel Island?"

"Not sure," Sonic answered. "We got a little turned around during the fight."

"You said that was a Task Force Badnik, Right?"

"Right."

"Then we must be close," Sally finished with a nod. "The question is 'how close?'

"Well," Sonic answered with his usual careful consideration, "I guess we'll just have to hope we're half a tank worth of close."

"Right," Sally agreed. "And pray we don't run into that Badnik's friends."


	15. Chapter Thirteen

**Greetings From the Author: Well, well, well. After close to eighty thousand words, the story finally comes to what it claims to be. the old SatAM series blended with the mid-nineties games. Here, Sonic starts to finally get past some of the brooding angst that's been the bane of his character development for several chapters, and he and Sally show vague signs of Sonic and Sally's relationship struggling to rebuild itself, even against both their wills. And, of course, Knuckles does what Knuckles does best (you'll see what I mean by the end of the chapter). Enjoy!**

Chapter Thirteen: The Island of the Angels

If stealth had been part of the plan, it was a moot point now.

The red biplane cut a path through the ragged clouds on the trailing edge of the storm, leaving a trail of vaporized fuel behind them. The latter formed a narrow line of orange and red mist as it reacted with the acid in the polluted rain clouds, resulting in a scene that was as beautiful in appearance as it was disgusting in nature. That line, Sonic and Sally both knew, would give their position away like a searchlight, no matter how remote a location they landed in once they reached the island.

_IF we reach the island,_ Sally reminded herself. "Sonic, I think this would be the time to-"

"To break out the ol' chutes? Yeah, good idea. Get yours first. Then you can take over flying while I get mine."

"Right." Without another word, Sally reached under the bench seat (wondering briefly whether that peculiarity of its design had been part of G.U.N.s standard design for the century-old plane or if it had been one of Robotnik's modifications) and withdrew…

…a backpack. Filled with individually packaged, aluminum foil-wrapped chili dogs. _Oh, now why does this somehow fail to surprise me?_ "Sonic, where's my chute?"

"Huh?" Sonic glanced in her direction, where his eyes fell upon the open backpack. "Uh, heh heh, oh yeah. Guess I kind of forgot to put the safety equipment back in after me and Tails took it for a spin."

"You forgot?! Sonic, we spent two days checking and rechecking to make sure…" With a sigh that indicated the realization that she was fighting a losing battle, Sally slid the backpack back under the seat. "You know what? Never mind. Just never mind. But I swear, Sonic, if we die in this plane-"

"Re-laaaaaax, Sal," Sonic brushed her unfinished threat aside. "We won't need the chutes after all."

"And why is that?"

"'Cause we're there," Sonic said casually, pointing out the forward window.

Sally followed Sonic's gaze, seeing nothing at frst. slowly, though, the cluds began to wear into thinner and thinner strips until she could see foliage ahead of them. Directly ahead, even though they were at high altitude. And below it, a funnel-shaped column of rock that ended, impossibly, in mid-air. "Oh, wow," she whispered in awe.

Sonic grinned. "Yeah, Angel Island's something when you see it for the first time."

_Sonic, you have a gift for understatement,_ Sally thought, nodding. _It's breathtaking!_ The island was huge: far larger than it seemed in any of the legends. It filled her entire field of vision by now, containing within its sprawling reaches an example of every naturally occurring ecosystem Sally could think of, and some she could never imagine. She turned her head a few degrees to the right and saw a forest of peculiar red-topped trees dancing in the wind (_no, not trees. Mushrooms!)_, and just out toward the "coast" from there stretched the green canopy of a rain forest which, she surmised, had to be thicker even than the Great Forest. A slight turn to the left, and she had to shield her eyes with her hand to protect them from the brilliant white-gold glare of the suns reflection off of desert sands. Scattered through it all were massive marble constructs which, unlike the buildings of most modern civilizations, seemed to have been painstakingly built to allow nature to grow around and between them, forming a seamless tapestry between the artificial and the natural. Above it all, a glittering glacial peak crowned the entire island, giving it the appearance of a coronet of diamond dust. _It's no wonder Sonic talks about it so often._

As if reading her thoughts, Sonic spoke up, his voice tinted with a mournful quality. "You should've seen it when me and Tails first got here. Back then, you couldn't even tell Robotnik had ever been here."

The mention of Robotnik jarred Sally's mind back to reality with cold suddenness. _And yes,_ she realized._ "You CAN tell Robotnik has been here._ To the far right side of her line of vision, Sally could see a wasteland where dozens of square miles of the rain forest she'd marveled at appeared to have been destroyed by flashfire. _And I doubt it was natural_. Upwards, too, on the shores of a lake that appeared to be formed by the run-off from the snow-capped peaks, sat a crawling smear of metal and duracrete, like a leprous sore on the skin of the island.

And there, on a wide, flat surface that looked to have once been a launch pad for a spacecraft larger than any sally had ever seen, the two _E.G.G Carriers_ and _Flying Battery_ stood: silent, motionless sentinels. Task Force E.G.G. was already on the island. "That has to be the Launch Base," she said unnecessarily.

"You got it, Sal," Sonic answered. "And there's the whole Task Force."

"And every one of them at anchor," Sally mused. "And barely a badnik in sight. If we just had more firepower…"

"We'll get 'em, Princess," Sonic assured her. "Know what's mondo-uncool about this though? Like you said, where's all the badniks? We know they're out there, 'cause we had a close encounter of the bird kind back there. That means there's gotta be more of them around somewhere."

Sally glanced over her shoulder at the glowing stream of fuel behind them. "And we're not exactly a hidden target right now." As she scanned the skies behind the plane she thought of another problem. "Omigosh, where's the _Freedom Stormer_?"

"Underneath us," Sonic answered. "They moved in after we took the hit from that bot. Probably getting ready to catch us in case we have to bail or something."

"Alright then, Mister on-top-of-everything. D'you have a plan for how we're going to land undetected?"

"Ha! Land undetected? Ain't gonna happen, Sally. Not wih the whole Launch Base plus the Task Force down there."

"Well then what do we do?" Sally asked, panicked.

"We put down as far away from the Launch Base as we can, and we jelly 'n' jam it away from the landing zone, Super Sonic Style," Sonic replied with gusto.

Sally sighed. "Make it up as you go along," Sally nodded her reluctant acknowledgement. "The tried and true Knothole way." By now they were close enough to the island that Sally could see supply convoys moving about on the Launch Base's floor. "It looks like they're unloading something from EC1," she noted, drawing N.I.C.H.O.L.E. from her boot holster. "Nichole, analyze."

"Yo, Sal. No time," Sonic chided.

Sally bit her lip. "You're right. Nichole, visual and thermographic scan. Store images for later analysis."

"_Scanning, Sally,"_ N.I.C.H.O.L.E. answered.

As N.I.C.H.O.L.E. began her scanning sequence, Sonic pantomimed picking up a radio speaker from the control panel in front of him. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Please place your tray tables in their upright and locked position, 'cause we're comin' down." As Sally rolled her eyes at the joke ("he'll probably crack those same cheesy jokes on his deathbed," she muttered), Sonic banked the _Tornado_ left, away from the Launch Base, pointing it toward an area densely peppered with the ivory and marble structures Sally had noted earlier. As the Launch Base disappeared around to the opposite side of the ice cap, the ground began to rush toward them at alarming speed.

"Sonic," Sally cried, "we're coming in too hot!"

"No time to slow down," Sonic argued. "We gotta get out of this plane before Eggman sends a welcome wagon."

"But we can't land at this speed!" Sally insisted. "Not with these ruins everywhere. We'll crash!"

"Brace yourself then," Sonic warned. "Marble Garden, here we come."

No sooner had Sonic given this warning than Sally felt herself being thrown against her safety harness as the _Tornado'_s landing gear struck an outcropping of stone that had once been part of the ruins now surrounding them. For a moment afterward the sky filled the horizon as the biplane skipped from the impact, angling sharply upward as it glanced off of the marble. This only lasted a moment, though. Within seconds, the ground began to slide into view as the plane's nose returned to its groundward course. Ahead stood a crumbling archway, it's capstone so deteriorated that the entire archway would have no doubt been scattered on the ground before the summer was out if left up to its own devices. Sally realized a few moments before it happened that it was not going to need the whole summer anymore, because its two support columns were in the direct path of the plane's wings. _This is going to be rough,_ she thought, tensing for the inevitable impact and the subsequent shearing of _Tornado_'s wings.

The impact came as predicted. The _Tornado _shot between the support columns, clearing the top of the archway by so little that Sally and Sonic had to duck to keep from being decapitated, and both of them lurched forward as the plane's speed was suddenly drastically reduced. Rather than relieve the plane of its wings, though, the durasteel projections sliced through the aging marble like sabers, taking only minimal damage themselves. As Sally clutched her stomach, reeling in pain where the safety harness's abdominal bar had impacted her and feeling certain she was going to reacquaint her morning meal with the light of day, the tornado's landing gear touched the ground again. This time, there was no bounce. Sonic had, it seemed, had the foresight to cut the craft's engines before the initial impact. They were no longer airborne.

The ride was bumpier on land than it had been in the air, though. As the plane careened through the ruins, miraculously not hitting any of the larger structures head-on, Sally became afraid that the aircraft would rattle itself apart. Still, neither she nor Sonic could escape at this speed. They were both pressed back against the back of their seats by the plane's forward momentum. There was nothing to do, it seemed, except 'ride it out' and hope they lived.

After a seemingly interminable time (which N.I.C.H.O.L.E. later reported to be sixteen point five seconds), the plane came to a halt, its metallic superstructure screaming in protest as the plane finally yielded to friction and stopped its forward motion. Sally let out a breath she had not yet realized she'd been holding in, noticing Sonic do the same thing as she did so.

"Well," she panted when her breath finally returned, "Knothole weather service reports a confirmed _Tornado_ touchdown on Angel Island."

"Yeah," Sonic nodded. "And for your extended forecast, a one hundred percent chance of pain." Coughing, he turned his head toward Sally, who stared back at him for a moment, coughing also. Finally, they laughed. Both were weak laughs, the laughter of those who are not completely certain they're still alive. When they finally stopped laughing, Sonic's eyes widened. "Oh, man, I forgot. We gotta get the hell out of here before we have company."

"Right," Sally instantly agreed. And so, without another word, they both unclasped their safety harnesses. With the precision that can only be gained by years of battle alongside one another, they vaulted in unison over their respective sides of the plane, sprinted to the cargo hold under the tail fin, and began unloading gear. Sonic grabbed his own backpack, along with Rotor's, while Sally collected hers and Bunnie's. With the four backpack's claimed, Sonic slammed the hold shut, tightened his backpack about his shoulders, and waited for Sally to grab hold. Before she could, however, a shadow passed over them. Both Freedom Fighters tensed, their eyes turning skyward as they prepared to either fight or flee from whatever aerial war machine Robotnik unleashed upon them.

Instead, the _Freedom Stormer_ soared past them, passing low enough overhead that Sally was able to discern Bunnie's concerned face peering over the side of the plane. Sonic gave the thumbs-up to indicate they were both unhurt, which Bunnie returned. The plane then glided past with its characteristic near-silence, descending for what Sonic estimated would be a landing a few miles North of their current position. "We'll catch up with them later," he told Sally. "for now, we gotta juice. Grab hold."

"Right," sally agreed. "Listen, Sonic," Sally began as she wrapped her arms around Sonic's midsection. "About all the things I said back there, I-"

"Sally," Sonic cut her off in an all-business tone. "Don't. Just don't, alright?"

Sally swallowed. "I see. So everything you said back there about hating me… every word of it…"

"I'm not about to say I didn't mean it just because we had a near miss with a Badnik," Sonic clipped as he sprinted Northward with Sally trailing behind him. "I meant everything I said back there." After locking eyes with Sally for a moment to make sure she understood him, Sonic was off, carrying Sally. He briefly considered saying something else, _wanted _to say somtehing else, but instead let it remain unsaid. He would later have cause to regretthat choice, and bitterly. _But I never said anything about hating you, Sally,_ was what he left unsaid._ That was you that said that._

_

* * *

_

In a secure chamber, deep within the armored heart of _E.G.G. Carrier 2_, was a laboratory none but Robotnik himself ever saw. It was reserved for his most important machines, projects on which he was willing to dirty his own hands. It was within this lab, amid a tangle of wires and disassembled mechanical components the sight of which would have made most semi-sentient robots ill, that Robotnik now stood. The dormant form of Metal Sonic lay on a table eerily reminiscent of a hospital's surgical table before him, with three out of four limbs attached. The fourth, his left arm, lay askew on a nearby cart amid a series of tools ranging in complexity from wrenches and screwdrivers to nano-cortical neuroprobes. The tyrant's hands, dripping with lubricating fluids and battery acid, were buried deep within the robot's open abdominal chamber, deftly and delicately re-attaching severed relays, removing mangled moving components.

"Another few hours, my son," Robotnik said, even aware that the droid could not hear him. "You'll be as good as new. So says the Good Doctor." Reaching to the cart without looking, he picked up a flathead screwdriver, which he used to unscrew a belt that connected Metal's feet to his power source, laying the ruined belt aside and replacing it with a fresh one. "Just in time, no doubt, to welcome your rival to the island. In fact-" The irksome and insistent _Bee-beep, bee-beep,_ of the internal communicator prevented Robotnik from finishing the sentence. "This had better be important," Robotnik growled, wiping his hands free of battery acid as he withdrew them from Metal Sonic's body and walked toward the wall-mounted viewscreen, pressing an orange button marked 'accept.' "Yes?"

_"Lord Robotnik," _a SWATbot's voice came through the speaker. _"Incoming report from a surveillance orb in quadrant four-seven-alpha-sierra, priority level alpha._"

"Feed it to my viewscreen," Robotnik barked.

The viewscreen flickered to life, displaying a panoramic view of the storm through which the Task Force had passed on its way to the island, with one notable and anomalous difference: a line of hazy red-orange leading from the clouds and extending toward the island.

"Robotnik narrowed his eyes. "Enhance grid seven and magnify," he commanded. A quadrangle of yellow lines appeared on the screen centered around the forward end of that ray, isolating it from the rest of the screen. The rectangle formed by these lines then expanded to fill the screen, displaying a scene that Robotnik found none-too-surprising. At the front of that streak was a red biplane, with two occupants. "Heading directly for us," Robotnik commented.

"_Visual sensors confirm the craft is piloted by Priority-One_," the SWATbot explained unnecessarily. "_We are prepared to intercept_."

"No," Robotnik clipped. "Do no such thing."

_"Sir?"_

Robotnik stroked his double chin with his steely hand. "Snively had to see this," he mused. "And he hasn't reported it."

"_It should be noted, sir, that the commander has given no intercept order_."

"Is that so." It was barely a question. "What kind of game is my nephew up to, I wonder?"

"_Orders, sir?"_

Robotnik considered this in silence for a moment. "Monitor the hedgehog's activities," he said finally. "But do not interfere. The time has come to see what kind of scheme Snively's perverse mind has conceived."

* * *

After a brief flyby to make sure the occupants of the _Tornado_ had emerged from the crash in better form than their vehicle, Rotor and Bunnie chose a landing zone four miles north of the crash site. It was a low-lying patch of grass, flanked by walls of ivy-covered stone and overlooked by the leering faces of statuary that was eerily Human, given that the city was Echidna-built. The walls, Rotor surmised, would provide at least partial cover from the unwelcome eyes of Robotnik's patrols. Bunnie hastily agreed, eager to put her feet back on the ground. "If rabbits had been meant to fly," she often said, "they'd've been born as bats."

The landing went went smoothly, at least when compared with the _Tornado_'s crash, and after a brief effort to push the now landed plane into the shadow of one of the walls, both Walrus and Hare were able to walk around and take stock of their surroundings. It was quickly decided that neither of the two favored their surroundings much.

The unnatural silence of the island's insect-free ecosystem added to the already haunting air of the long-abandoned ruins. The statues, she discovered with a start, were also not precisely as she had first believed. Rather than strictly Human images, each one appeared to have three eyes, the third a grotesquely large aberration protruding from the center of the forehead. A breeze blew, and even though it was nothing compared to the gale they had passed through to reach the island, Bunnie still felt a shiver pass through her as it bristled her fur, unable to escape the thought that it felt disturbingly like a group of hands passing over her. "Mah stars, let's get the hell outta here, Rotor," she half-whispered. Then, aware in some part of her mind how child-like she would sound, she added, "this place feels haunted."

"Might be," Rotor answered darkly, putting a hand on Bunnie's arm to still her. "But not by ghosts."

"Whatcha mean, sugah?"

In response, Rotor pointed to the craven faces that lined the courtyard (for he had decided this was what it had once been). "The eyes, Bunnie. Look at the eyes."

Fighting an irrational (at least she hoped it was irrational) fear that she would find herself paralyzed by the gorgon gaze of the monolithic sentinels of the dead, Bunnie glanced at the eys of the statues nearest her. She found herself actually comforted by the fact that they were closed. _No, they're not _all_ closed._ One statue on either side of the courtyard, the pair closest to where they had landed, each had one eye open. And it was, she wasn't at all surprised to discover, the central eye in both cases. The eyes were even more ghastly when opened as well. Rather than they carved marble irises she had expected, each central eye was a gleaming gem the color of freshly-spilled blood. "Rotor," she fully whispered this time. "What does it mean?"

Rotor shook his head slowly. "I don't know, but I'm pretty sure we don't want to find out."

"Well, what do we do?"

After a long and contemplative silence, mostly spent gazing at the menacing statues, Rotor slowly stepped back toward the _Freedom Stormer_. "I've got a theory," he explained, aborting Bunnie's question. Unlocking the spare parts canister a the back of the craft, rotor withdrew a sheet of tanned leather stretched over a frame like an avian skeletal wing. It was the craft's spare rudder.

"Rotor, what're you doin'? If we lose that-"

"If I'm wrong, we won't," Rotor cut Bunnie off. "But if I'm right… well, better the rudder than us."

As Bunnie puzzled over his meaning, Rotor held the rudder in front of him, its length running parallel to his body. Bunnie found herself reminded, absurdly, of the Royal Colorguard in the Old Mobitropolitan Court. Rotor, glancing at both statues as if measuring, stepped cautiously forward until he was almost between the two statues. "Rotor," bunnie hissed. "Be careful! We don't know what-" The sentence ended in a yelp, in which rotor joined as the rudder in front of him was torn from his hand by the flight of a pair of arrow's, first from his left and then from his right a moment later. The rudder, carried away by the first arrow, was brought down by the one from the opposite direction and now lay strectehed out in the grass a few yards away from Rotor.

After remaining frozen for a few moments, Rotor breathed a weary sigh. "I thought so."

"You thought so what?" Bunnie shrieked. "What was that?"

"The arrows came from the statues, Bunnie," Rotor answered. "The red eyes are some kind of motion sensor."

"Motion sensors," Bunnie gasped. "Rotor, this city is more than four thousand years old!"

Rotor nodded. "I didn't say I knew how. I just said that's what they are. We can't go past those statues. Not unless we think we can outrun those arrows."

"Not likely, sugah," Bunnie chuckled.

Rotor nodded. "Right."

Bunnie was silent for a moment. "Well, then what do we do?"

Rotor, as if in answer, sat down in the grass next to the _Freedom Stormer _and leaned up against the plane's wooden hull. "We wait," he answered plainly. "Sonic and Sally'll find us, and Sonic can outrun those arrows."

Sitting down next to Rotor, Bunnie nodded. "Mah stars, I don't too much like this waitin' business," she muttered. "But I guess it's all we can do. And what's our next move?"

Rotor considered this for a moment. "Well, we got a good look at Robotnik's base on the way in, and that's the good news. The bad news is it's a lot better equipped than it sounded from Sonic's description. Worse, with the Tornado dumping fuel like that, I'm willing to bet Robotnik got as good a look at us as we did at him, so surprise is out of the question."

Bunnie smirked. "Ah don't think surprise was ever in the plan, hon. Remember that letter Robotnik left?"

Rotor cocked his head to one side and nodded. "Point," he admitted. "But it all boils down to the same conclusion. We'll be hard pressed to do this alone. We need to find this 'Knuckles' sonic talked about."

"Koinda funny y'should mention it, mate," growled a voice that seemed to come from no particular direction. "'Cause most o' the toime, when an intrudah on Angel Island foinds the Guardian, it's cause for regret!"

Bunnie and Rotor were both on their feet in an instant, but that was still too slow to keep from being driven back against the plane's hull by a crimson comet that came from nowhere. When Rotor was able to focus his vision, he beheld their attacker and knew immediately

(_As though there was any doubt to begin with)_

That this was Knuckles, the last Echidna and the Guardian of Angel Island. And he was apparently not pleased to see them. The echidna's red spines stood on end, making him seem larger and, if possible, even more intimidating than he would otherwise have been. He stood before them with his fists raised in a fighting stance, brandishing the spear-like joints from which his clan derived their name. His cranial spines, which he wore in the Knuckles Clan's traditional dreadlocks, trailed behind him from the breeze that Bunnie had taken note of earlier, and this gave them the subtle appearance of arrows pointing to his face. His lips were pulled back, baring his predatory teeth, and his eyes burned into them as though his gaze could pierce ehtm as easily as that of the statues. He would have seemed utterly demonic to rotor's eyes had it not been for the almost absurd contradiction of the white crescent of spines that marked his upper chest and formed a ring around his neck. _Or a halo,_ Rotor thought.

Bunnie slowly lifted her hands, palms forward. "We're not yore enemy," she assured him as placatingly as possible.

"Izzat so," Knuckles snarled. "Well that's funny too, 'cause the first intruder to tell me that had an arm koinda loike yours." The echidna waved his fist in the general direction of Bunnie's roboticized arm. "And Oi was dumb enough t'believe him. But y'know the ol' saying: fool me once 'n' all that."

"It's true," Rotor assured him. "We're Freedom Fighters, friends of Sonic."

At the mention of Sonic, Knuckles' attention turned swiftly to Rotor, but not in the manner rotor had intended. "Friends o' Sonic?" He growled as his fist plowed into Rotor's midsection. "What koinda idjit d'you think Oi am? Y'think Oi can't see this Barby here's got a robotic arm? You're Eggman's spies, dammit!"

"Stop it!" Bunnie shouted, grabbing for Knuckles' arm with her mechanical one only to have Knuckles perform a somersault over her head and drive both his bloodthirsty fists with those deadly knuckles into her kidneys. Bunnie let out a howl of agony as she tumbled forward into Rotor's arms from the blow.

"Not moy enemy, eh?" Knuckles snarled. "Roight. Oi guess you were just troyin' t'shake hands?"

"She was trying to stop you from beating the living hell out of your allies," Rotor insisted, his former diplomacy now replaced by anger. "We're not Robotnik's spies. Her arm is like that because she's been partly roboticized."

"Yeah? Well Oi don't give a roo's rump how you got that arm," Knuckles fired back. "You wandered too fah from your Launch Base this toime, bot breath."

"I told you, we're not Robots!" Bunnie screamed. "We're Freedom Fighters! What'n the Sam Hill is it gonna take to convince you of that?!"

"Simple," Knuckles answered. "If you're a friend o' Sonic, then Sonic'll get here in time t'save ya before Oi throw your sorry carcasses off the side o' the oyland. If not," he shrugged, still grinning that killer's grin. "Two bots down, 'bout half a million t'go."


	16. Chapter Fourteen

**A Word From the Author: Greetings, all. This chapter... well, I've been reading a lot of latter-day Stephen King lately, and here, it shows. Primarily in the way the narrator almost "breaks the fourth wall" in one scene, speaking directly to the reader. I also tried a new technique for dream-sequences, displaying them in italics and writing them in present tense instead of past tense. I'll admit, neither of these is my usual bread-and-butter, but no matter how I tried to get around them, these two scenes just would not seem to come out any other way. So, any feedback on this chapter, especially regarding the two scenes I mentioned, would be greatly appreciated. And now, as always, enjoy.**

Chapter Fourteen: Perchance to Dream

Knuckles' white-gloved fist made a swishing sound as it passed through the air where Bunnie's head had been moments before, and with no recourse left but to defend herself until Sonic arrived, Bunnie countered with a steel-toed kick to the Echidna's chin. Not one to waste a single movement in battle, Knuckles used the same arm that had just swung to block the kick. Even so, he was not prepared for the force of a hydraulic-powered leg, and he found himself lifted into the air with his blocking arm flailing over his head. Had Bunnie chosen to advance on him as he spun through the air, it would have ended badly for Knuckles. Assault, however, had not been Bunnie's intent, but rather, survival.

"Oi s'pose you're going t'tell me that was no mechanical leg you just walloped me with eithah," Knuckles growled, staggering to his feet.

"Ah already told you how Ah got these ol' clodhoppers, sugah," Bunnie replied, crouching defensively. "It's up to you if you wanna believe me or not. 'Cause trust me, hon. Ah can keep this up all day if you want to."

"Then Oi guess Oi'd bettah kick it up a notch," Knuckles said, popping his knuckles menacingly as he lunged at Bunnie with even greater speed than before. This time he caught Bunnie off guard, and his right fist barreled into her midsection, followed by a back-handed blow to her face. Bunnie went to the ground in a sprawl as Knuckles regained his balance. A split second later Knuckles was upon her, pressing one knee into the small of her back as he pinned her organic arm behind her with one hand, gripping her neck in a chokehold with the other. Rotor, sensing opportunity, chose the moment to throw his full and considerable weight into a charge at Knuckles' side. The ease with which Knuckles deflected his charge with a single kick would remain in Rotor's memory for years. It was not the fact that the Echidna managed to keep his other leg still pressed against Bunnie's back as he kicked, leaving his body seemingly suspended in mid-air for a moment. It was not the speed with which the kick came (Rotor had heard Sonic's tales of the Guardian, and he expected him to be fast).

It was the fact that Knuckles knew the precise moment and place to kick without looking.

Rotor staggered backward, unsure whether the red sea in which his eyes now swam was from disorientation, or blood from his now shattered nose and jaw. "Unnnngh," he groaned as he tried to make his eyes return the three echidnae in front of him into one.

"Bad move, sparky," Knuckles said almost sympathetically as he turned his eyes, finally, toward Rotor. "Oi guess all that's left is to… huh?"

Bunnie didn't yet understand why the Echidna's deathgrip on her airway suddenly relaxed, but she was thankful for the air, as well as the opportunity to wrench herself from Knuckles' grip. She twisted her hips, throwing the Guardian off of her and regaining her feet with the same motion and at that moment her ears detected a sound she knew neither Knuckles nor Rotor would hear for several moments. Three steps brought her side-by-side with Rotor before she turned to face Knuckles again. _Enough of this little miss honey-bunny routine,_ she told herself. _Time to fight back._ As she faced Knuckles, she saw him suddenly transfixed by his own left foot.

"B…blood?" Knuckles asked with sincere confusion evident in his voice as his eyes darted between his shoe and Rotor's face.

"Lesson one, sugah," Bunnie snarled. "Don't pick a fight if'n ya can't stand the sight o' yore own blood."

"Oi've seen plenty o' moy own blood," Knuckles responded in like tone. "It's yours I wasn't expecting."

"That has a way of happening when you beat the crap out of someone," Rotor managed a sarcastically philosophical tone even through his pain.

Knuckles opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak he was cut off by a distant sound. It was the sound Bunnie had heard a few moments prior: the sound of something approaching, and fast. _Extremely_ fast. His eyes narrowed into predatory slits as he grinned, exposing his vicious teeth. "Ah. He's back," he muttered and leaped into the air. At the moment he cleared the ground, a blue streak sped through the space he'd occupied a moment before, coming to a halt directly underneath him.

"You guys all-" Sonic began his greeting as Sally let go and dusted herself off.

"Look out!" Bunnie and Rotor both screamed and pointed at something over Sonic's head a moment too late. Sonic looked up in time to see the metal soles of Knuckles' shoes come squarely down on his shoulders, knocking him asprawl in the dirt in front of Rotor and Bunnie. Sally gasped, backing a step away from this red invader on reflex.

Sonic was on his feet with lightning speed, and he and Knuckles stared each other down for a moment, neither speaking a word. It was the kind of stare known rivals give each other on a battlefield before disengaging from other opponents to meet each other in single combat. An instant later, they advanced toward one another, fists clenched, spines standing on end, until they were nearly within arm's reach of one another. There, the two combatants froze for a single second, as if giving all present the chance to stand clear of the coming confrontation. This lasted barely an eyeblink, but that was long enough for Sally, Rotor and Bunnie all three to realize that this was no longer their concern, and was strictly between Sonic and Knuckles. Then, with a suddenness and ferocity that made the onlookers shudder, they lunged at each other, grappling and…

…Embracing in that back-slapping manner reserved for old war-buddies.

"Yo, Knux-man! Long time no see!" Sonic exclaimed.

"Not long enough, y' old pincushion," Knuckles responded with a grin. "How's it hangin,' mate?"

And so the pleasantries went, with Bunnie and Rotor watching in disbelief at the exchange between their attacker and their rescuer.

"Well, Ah _shorely_ do declare," Bunnie muttered, crossing her arms.

"Tell me about it," Rotor added.

By this time Sonic and Knuckles had finished their catching-up. "Well, guess I'd better introduce you to the gang," Sonic said. "This is-"

"Well, what have we here?" Knuckles interrupted in a suddenly awestruck tone as his eyes fell for the first time on Sally. Deftly, his eyes never leaving hers, he took her hand in his and kissed the back of it before adding, "welcome home, Miss."

Sonic froze, mouth gaping. Finally, he managed a confused "huh?"

Blushing, Sally pulled a few stray strands of her red hair out of her face with the hand that Knuckles didn't have. "I… I'm sorry. You must be mistaken. I've never been here."

"Nevah the less," Knuckles assured her in a tone that carried a welcome very different from the one he'd given Sonic, "Angel Oyland has to be your home. It must be, for it even bears your name, Miss." This last was emphasized with another kiss on Sally's hand.

"Charmed, I'm sure," Sally said with courtly grace, allowing Knuckles to kiss her hand this second time before withdrawing it, still smiling. _Hope you brought a pencil and a notebook, Sonic,_ she thought, not entirely without meanness, _because class is in session._

"Y-yeah," Sonic's voice seemed suddenly quieter. "Knuckles, meet Sally Acorn."

Knuckles' eyes darted toward Sonic's for a second, with a look of recognition in them. "Ah," he said, suddenly more formal. "A pleasure t'meet you, Highness." As an afterthought, he gave a small bow and added, "Pard'n me for bein' so forward."

"No apologies necessary," Sally answered warmly, (even though Knuckles' glance at Sonic made her think the apology may have been directed at him more than her). Her tone was a bit more than simply warm as she added, "and the pleasure's all mine."

Knuckles smiled, but his eyes kept darting toward Sonic as if expecting hostility. Though he would never have admitted it, his mind was suddenly and inexplicably filled with memories of the ease with which Sonic floored him in their fight during Robotnik's first invasion of the island.

Finally, Sonic spoke up. "Eh, right. Well, the big guy's Rotor."

Knuckles turned toward Rotor and Bunnie, who now had decided it was safe to step within arm's reach. Knuckles shook hands with Rotor, though Rotor was quite clearly still wary. "Welcim to Angel Oyland, Mate," Knuckles greeted. "And, eh, sorry about… y'know, b'fore. Meant no offense."

"Offense?" Rotor chuckled with sarcasm that went undetected by anyone except Bunnie. "Hey, it's cool."

Sensing the growing awkwardness of the moment, and eager to get it over with, Sonic went on. "And this is Bunnie Rabbot."

Knuckles released his grip on Rotor's hand and turned toward Bunnie, still glancing nervously at her cybernetic limbs. "Rab-_bot_?"

"Yeah, little run-in with the roboticizer," Sonic whispered uneasily. "But she's cool," he quickly added. "I mean, it didn't get to her brain."

With a winning smile, Bunnie held out her organic paw to shake Knuckles' hand with, and Knuckles accepted the hand. As soon as he did, however, Bunnie's face twisted into an angry grimace and her other hand came forward with frightening speed, delivering a metallic palm-heel strike to Knuckles' vulnerable jaw.

Sonic's eyes widened with alarm. "Bunnie, what-?"

"Tha Hell?" Knuckles growled, wiping blood from his nose with one gloved hand.

"Well, Ah had to make shore you weren't a robot," Bunnie said sweetly. "Ah didn't mean no _offense_."

"Point taken," Knuckles answered, flinging the drops of blood from his glove onto the ground.

Sally decided at that point that it was a good time to get to business before anyone decided to make sure anyone else wasn't a robot. "Well whatever the case, Knuckles, we all need to find some cover soon. Our arrival didn't exactly go unnoticed, and Robotnik is bound to have air patrols combing the area for us."

Knuckles glowered at the mention of Robotnik's patrols. "Prob'ly roight, Miss," he agreed. "But covah's not exactly easy t'foind nowadays. C'mon though. Oi've still got a few hoidin' places Ol' King Cholest'rol hasn't got to yet."

"Way past cool, Knux," Sonic commented approvingly. "So what're we still standin' around for? Let's juice!"

Behold, now, the Death Egg Launch Base. Its failed purpose now past, still it stands, the cancerous mark of industry upon the pristine glory of the last wild realm of Mobius. Its ceramic concrete landing strips have begun to crack even now, and tendrils of grass seep their way through, defiantly declaring nature's relentless reclamation of all the passing glory of mankind's self-proclaimed ingenuity. But it is, by and large, an empty claim. For these concrete blocks will remain just undrneath the surface of their loamy grave for centuries to come, and the breaking down of the durasteel strongholds, were they to go unmaintained, would leave their toxic mark upon the land for longer still, even when the bones of the few Humans remaining were nought but dust and their proud empire nothing more than a dim memory. This is the legacy of Robotnik. This is the Legacy of the seed of Arthur o' Camelot. This is the Legacy of Man: the unyielding drive to squeeze every drop of life out of the world that nurtured him. Behold it, and behold it well.

And behold also another wonder. Here, upon the pockmarked surface of this crawling cancer upon the face of the world, grows a yet more festering and infected mark. Here, upon a forest of steel girders rising out of the oily mire that was once Azure Lake (home to an Echidna monastery), the same structure built to support the Death Egg once upon an oh-so-recent time, a glistening metallic dome rises like a boil. Three lines bisect the hemispheric structure, each line converging at the top center of the dome. These are the lines upon which the dome will open (or the boil will burst, if we are to continue our metaphor), and then the depth of the sickness brought on by the Techno Tyrant will truly be known. This dome is the so-often-spoken-of A.I. Project, finally fully constructed and ready to begin final debug testing. It is here where the Lord of Machines, no longer satisfied with the rape of the natural realm, will take it upon himself to warp the very fabric of time that was sewn together with such magnificence in a time so far forgotten that only the Ketsunae could tell of it.

This is the aperture generator, the pinnacle of all Robotnik's work for two years past. And it is the blade of the sword that is the A.I. Project. The blade that will split the fabric of time, allowing Robotnik to spill through to another world, another time. This is where Tails, the overeager protégé of the planet's most renowned hero, was held captive. This is where Isaac Eldritch, along with Solyurus and Orana Archer, the three young gods, were soon to arrive to mount their hastily-conceived rescue attempt. This is where Metal Sonic, the blue-steel barracuda, now lay testing his refurbished limbs and awaited his chance for vengeance. This is where Snively sat, anxiously watching his uncle's movements, seeking the opportune moment to deploy Metal Sonic into action and rid himself of both Sonic and Metal (and, were he to dare such an ambitious dream, perhaps Robotnik as well?). This is where Angel Island's Guardian and his four unlikely companions now turned their gaze. For this, reader, is where the final battle of an age would begin, and that before another day was out.

* * *

_He stands alone, in a place as formless and confusing as the muck out of which the universe was said to be carved. He sees nothing. Not even the blackness that comes form a total absence of light. He simply does not see. "This," he has occasion to think, "is what the world looks like with fused optical circuits: neither light nor dark." And yet it crosses his mind to think that somehow, this is a form of darkness. Or rather, since the word "form" seems moot in these surroundings, a non-form of darkness. A nothingness that is beyond empty; an anti-existence. _

_His hearing is as void as his sight, and the silence seems to press in upon the audio circuits that have replaced his ears. Nor is his sense of touch of any use here in this vacuum. He tries to call for his guards, for Snively, for any of the forces that he has grown accustomed to having at his beck and call, but no sound escapes. He is not even certain his brain finished sending the signal to his vocabulator to begin with. He is alone. That much is certain. Alone, and seemingly nowhere._

_"And I'm dreaming," he realizes. "I entered a regeneration cycle four point three hours ago, and I won't awaken from it for another three point seven hours. This is a dream of some kind." Yet even this thought gives little comfort, because there is one problem. "I haven't had a dream since I roboticized myself. Much less a…" he starts to think "nightmare," but refuses to allow it. He is Robotnik, the Mad Mechanized Monarch, and he fears nothing!_

_"Oh, but I know better, now don't I?" _

_The voice comes from within his own head (for indeed, in this realm of senseless emptiness, where else can it come from?), but it is not his own. It's guttural… predatory… ancient… and malevolent. Oh, yes. Malevolent beyond even Robotnik's comprehension. And now, for the first time he can remember, Robotnik is afraid. Not for his life, or his legacy, or even his pride. He fears the loss of something he thought he no longer possessed; something he has always thought he gave up during roboticization ("or long before," the voice answers his own thought with impish glee). This time, Robotnik fears for his very soul._

_"Oh, save it. Don't be so melodramatic," the voice says dismissively. "What would I want with anything as useless as your admittedly-hypothetical soul? Keep it. I have bigger plans for you."_

_"Who are you? Show yourself!" Robotnik thinks, pouring all his willpower into making it into a demand._

_Even with no sound, Robotnik is able to perceive that the voice is laughing, and he realizes belatedly the futility of his demand._

_"Well now, that wouldn't do much good, given that there's no such thing as "sight" here, would it?"_

_"Where-" Robotnik begins to form another thought, but it dies unfinished, for he is now lost in a sea of pain. It is not a physical pain, for his sense of touch has departed him, and this is, in some ways, the worst aspect of the pain. The fact that it doesn't hurt _anywhere._ It hurts _everywhere._ In him, through him, all around him, it is as if pain has become a place and he stands at the center of it._ _"I've died," he thinks. "That little weasel, Snively, has killed me in my sleep, and this is the Hell that some forgotten Monastic tried to warn me about."_

_The thought seems to amuse whoever or whatever is the source of the voice, and the pain ceases. "Sorry about that." There is an unmistakable casualness to it. "But I have a few things to tell you… okay A LOT to tell you, and this will go a lot faster if you just shutup and listen. Is that alright?"_

_Robotnik makes no reply._

_"Good boy. Now, then. Let's talk a little about your future. Surely a man who builds a time-travel device must be interested in that, right? Right. So pay attention!"_

_"And what, pray-tell, am I paying attention too?"_

_As if in response, the no-sight of this void explodes into a kaleidoscopic frenzy of images, flying past at such speeds that he is barely able to glimpse them, but those that he does glimpse seem more the rantings of a madman than anything that he could ever logically expect to see. Angel Island hangs in the air in front of him in one, and hovering above it, two great disembodied heads. One of them appears to be a Mobian ape, and the other is a horned, skeletal horror seemingly vomited forth from some mythical underworld. In another image, a nine-tailed fox, its fur an impossible combination of orange, with green fur on its head and yellow ears, wearing spkied bands around its wrists and shoulders, lunges at him, seeming to take a bullying swipe at him with a great claw on its way to…_

_…he is suddenly aware he has no idea where these images are coming from, or where they are going._

_"They're going into your subconscious mind," the voice explains. "You won't remember them until you need to, so don't worry about it."_

_The idea of a disembodied dream-boogyeman firing a machine gun of psychotic hallucinations into his subconscious does nothing to alleviate his fears, but he says nothing. Even so, he is not surprised when the voice-thing laughs its soundless laugh again. After this, the images continue at the same intolerable rapidity until he finds himself unable to discern where one hellscape ends and the next begins. Creatures that defy description pass vaguely before his eyes, and he can't escape the thought that anything longer than a passing glimpse at what he is seeing would likely drive him mad. Soon, he is overwhelmed, and his conscious thoughts simply break as his brain resigns itself to simply endure the scourging._

_Finally, the images subside, and he finds himself struggling to clear his head. "Now then," the voice says calmly. "With that out of the way, I'm going to give you a little that I think is simple enough that even you can get it."_

_He starts to respond, and there is a monetary flash of that same falling, lost, pain._

_"Really, now, this is getting a little annoying. I thought you would've learned the first time. Now listen!"_

_Whether he likes it or not, Robotnik is now listening._

_"Okay. First off, a number. Actually, a couple of numbers. They're numbers you're going to want to remember. Got it? The first number is five. That's the important number, because it's mine. Five, like the fingers on a hand. Got that?"_

_"Five."_

_"Good boy. The other is a little more subtle, but I think with a little help you'll get why it's important. It's… eh, let's call it the number-of-the-worlds. That number is three."_

_"Five for you, whoever you are, and three for the worlds. Is that it?"_

_"No, there's another. You've already seen a little of this one, so you'll probably have enough sense to recognize it for what it is. It's the number of those who stand in the way of people like us. The number is seven."_

_"There are seven who stand in our way," he repeats, and is rewarded by a third dip in the sea of pain. "Three times," he thinks. "Does this make this the proverbial 'world of hurt' with which the hedgehog is always threatening me?"_

_"Let's try this again," says the voice when the pain finally stops. "Seven is the number _associated_ with people who stand in my way… _our_ way. Now do you think you understand."_

_"Only that the numbers you expect me to recall are five, three and seven, and there significances are you, 'the worlds,' and 'those who oppose me,' respectively."_

_"Good enough," the voice answers contentedly. "Now, there's one last bit I want to leave you with. When the portal opens, and you emerge on the other side, look for the king."_

_"That is precisely what I have in mind."_

_"Not Arthur, you idiot! You're not… Ah, never mind. I have myself to blame, I suppose. Just remember what I told you. Remember the numbers, and look for the king. And if you decide you'd rather do things on your own, well…" _

_As the voice fades into obscurity, Robotnik feels the now-familiar sensation of sinking in a sea of tangible pain. Only this time, the voice doesn't come to release him from it. And so he remains, adrift in agony, each second seeming a lifetime, until his regeneration cycle ends._

_Three point seven hours, as it turns out, is a long time._

* * *

_Regeneration cycle complete: Initiating systems diagnostic_

_Processor Operation… Maintenance required_

_Main Chassis Integrity… Normal_

_Sensory Systems Operation… Normal_

_Program Check:_

_Primary Directive: Obey Bao'zar_

_---ERROR: Primary Directive failed to load. Reloading Program Check---_

_Program Check:_

_Primary Directive: All Hail the Shadow King_

_---ERROR: Unrecognized directive detected. Initiating viral scan---_

_---Viral Scan Disabled. Primary Directive change recorded as---_

_---ERROR: Unauthorized access to Primary Cognitive Subroutines. Resetting systems to Safe Mode._

_---Safe Mode Enabled. Last session terminated prematurely. Proceed with minimal drivers? This will result in loss of all memory data not saved to emergency back-up. Proceed?---_

_---Confirmed. Downloading back-up Operating System. Unit designation… Robotnik---_

* * *

_"Commander Robotnik,_" chirped a tekbot as it swerved skillfully between the stork-like legs of the Eggrobo bridge crew of _E.G.G. Carrier 2_. "_Message from the flagship, priority Alpha_."

Snively sighed with disgust. Preparing the portal generator so many hours ahead of his uncle's awareness was difficult enough without the constant interruptions. "Report," he droned, drawing out that one word with overemphatic disinterest.

"_Flagship bridge reports that there has been an error in Doctor Robotnik's regeneration cycle,"_ the tekbot replied matter-of-factly.

At that, Snivelly's head snapped toward the tekbot with a speed that would have been comical under other circumstances. "What kind of error?"

"_Unknown, sir. The bridge's command unit reports that the Doctor should have awakened from his cycle seventeen minutes ago but has not, and his regeneration pod has initiated his emergency restart sequence. At last report, the Doctor's emergency restart sequence was 19 percent complete."_

This, Snively immediately discerned, was not a physical problem, but a 'software issue,' which, in a roboticized dictator, was synonymous with 'mental illness.' "It would seem the egg has finally cracked," he muttered. Then, speaking clearly, "prepare my transport for departure. Lock down every protocol associated with the A.I. Project until my return."

_"Aye, Sir,"_ the tekbot agreed. "_I shall alert Commander Metal of your coming."_

Snively froze. "What? Commander Metal?"

"_Aye, Sir. Commander Metal Sonic assumed command of the flagship at 1421 hours after being informed of the Doctor's condition."_

Snively's fists clenched as he heard Metal Sonic's name mentioned, and even more tightly at the phrase 'assumed command.' "So, that thrice-damned droid is repaired again, is he?" Snively narrowed his eyes as he spoke. "Droid, compute probability of my uncle's recovery."

"_Sixty-five percent, Commander_," the tekbot replied without hesitation.

Snively made a grunting noise like someone who has braced themselves for a blow to the gut, but did not expect it to be quite so powerful. "State emergency protocols in the event my uncle goes off-line and does not give orders regarding the transfer of command protocols."

"All command functions are to be re-routed to the commander who is nearest to the Doctor at the moment of his shut-down."

Snively nodded, having expected this. "Then there's no way that tin-plated would-be rodent is going to let me aboard that ship," he mused. "Well in that case…" He turned back toward the front of the bridge, where the Command Unit of the ship (the third in less than 72 hours, and he was fully aware of it) waited. "Commander, issue an order that testing of the A.I. Project is to begin immediately. Also-"

"Also," spoke a lower, huskier voice from the door on the other side of the bridge, "signal all combat units to upgrade battle-readiness status to level 3. And deploy the 1073rd SWATbot company to the last known coordinates of the Freedom Fighter aircraft and begin a grid-based search pattern." At the sound of this voice, every eye in the room turned toward the door, for it was the voice of Robotnik himself.

"S-s-sir…?" Snively managed to choke out that single word. "M-m-my! This is an unexpect-_Ack!_"

"Whatever sniveling you were about to do," Robotnik hissed as he clutched Snively's narrow neck in one great, fat hand and lifted him until he was eye-level with him, "save it. Yes, I know about the hedgehog's untimely arrival on the island. And I know you were aware of it as well. And now, thanks to your eagerness to put your new toy to the test and secure your hold over my empire after my passing, I know that you've also been lying to me about the delayed progress of the A.I. Project."

The garroting grip on Snively's airway relaxed, barely, enabling Snively to speak in hacking spurts, churning up geysers of foaming spittle as he did so. "The aircraft… was badly damaged… The h-h-hedgehog could… could not… have.. survived.. _Please,_ sir…"

"I. Said. Be. _Silent!"_ Robotnik screamed into Snively's face, holding the smaller man's face so close to his own that Snively could see the place at the back of his throat where the façade of organic flesh gave way to unmasked machinery underneath. "I'm going to ask you one question, Snively. And I would suggest you answer plainly. Because if the answer does not please me, than your ambitions for my throne, as well as your pitiful service to my empire, will both die with you right here. Am I understood."

Snively's face now closely resembled his uncle's uniform in color, and his vision was beginning to blur from oxygen deprivation. He would have uttered an involuntary moan of horror at this bare, unvieled threat, but his vocal chords were once again cut off by his uncle's strangling grip. Still, he must have done something Robotnik took for a 'yes,' because the question came.

"What, in all its treacherous entirety, was your plan behind all this deception? Include everything, nephew-mine: failing to inform me of the hedgehog's arrival, lying to me about the status of the portal, and whatever other secrets you may be keeping from me. I will hear them now!" With a final tightening of his grip as he spat the word 'now,' he let snively drop unceremoniously to the floor, where he fell in a crumpled heap at Robotnik's feet. After a few ragged, gasping breaths he struggled to regain his feet, only to feel the unforgiving grip of an Eggrobo's hands forcing him roughly back to his knees. The message was clear enough to him. _He intends me to die here, kneeling, pleading for my life, _Snively realized.

There is a moment, it is said, when the possibility of death gives way to the surety of it, that there is supposedly no longer any fear. So it was for Snively at that moment. He was to die here, he knew, and if that was the case, he decided he would at least die well. "My plan, Uncle," he spoke plainly, looking directly into the tyrant's glaring face, "was to wait until the hedgehog got loose on the island, suggest you deploy Metal Sonic against him while we moved the Task Force to a safe distance from the island, the activate the A.I. Project. After this, I intended to surge its power units so that the aperture would expand and envelope the entire island, ridding you of one hedgehog and myself of the other. I then intended to build myself up in your eyes as the commander who eliminated the hedgehog and, with this new status and my rival eliminated, to finally achieve some degree of respect in your eyes. It seems, however, that I have failed.

"So have your droids execute me, if you will, Uncle. Because it seems I do not have the knack for treachery that is required for ascension within your empire." With that, Snively hung his head and awaited his fate.

For a long time, Robotnik said nothing. Finally, a low laugh came rumbling up from the Eggman's oversized gut. It came slowly, at first, like an old athlete attempting an exercise they have not doen in years. Then, with more ease, until it became a rumbling guffaw that rattled the entire bridge before it subsided, giving way to a grin that was actually amused, though no less sadistic than usual. "Ah, Snively," Robotnik said at last, looking down upon the large-nosed man. "I must confess myself surprised. I truly never thought you had the nerve. And such guile!"

_So, then, he wants to mock me first,_ Snively thought. _Well, let him mock. I will not break._

Robotnik's demeanor changed in an instant, returning to the bare-teeth grimace with which Snively was more familiar. And with it came a mighty kick to Snively's midsection, carrying him through the air several feet before he rolled once, twice, nearly three times to land face-up in the center of the bridge. "Get up, you miserable little man," Robotnik sneered. "The bridge is no place for a nap."

Snively replayed this last in his head several times, uncertain whether he had heard correctly, before slowly and uncertainly rising to his feet. A quick glance at the far side of the bridge revealed the ship's Eggrobo Colonel standing, cross-armed and defiant, where Snively had been moments before. He was the only Eggrobo on the bridge, Snively noticed._ Which means that's the one who held me down. It seems we'll be on Colonel number four if I have the chance._

"You know, Snively," Robotnik spoke with the calm, self-assuredness that the proud always reserve for those of lesser understanding. "My original plan was to let you have your way for a time, if for no other reason than to see what you had in store with your scheming. But several new facts have come to my attention, not the least of which being your casual tendency to toss aside the most advanced combat units in the empire."

_And there went my chance at disposing of mister crossed-arms,_ Snively thought. "And, w-w-what new facts might those be, sir?"

Robotnik did not respond, but his eyes flickered bright-to-dim-to-bright several times in rapid succession. It was a gesture Snively had come to associate with…

Fear?

"Never mind that, Snively," Robotnik answered with unexpected quietness. "Only be aware that I know certain things which you do not: a fact you would do well to remember always, Snively." After giving this veiled threat a moment to sink in, Robotnik went on. "For the moment, we will continue as planned. Metal Sonic has been placed in command of E.C.1, and I'm moving the flag here while he sweeps the island for the Freedom fighters."

If Snively felt anything at this, the news of the loss of his command and the simultaneous promotion of Metal Sonic, he gave no sign.

"How long will the systems need to warm up before we can test the aperture, Snively?" Robotnik asked flatly, donning a more aggressive tone to add, "And I will tolerate no deception this time."

Snively, who had no intention of further deception (for now), answered subserviently, "seven hours, sir."

"Seven hours," Robotnik repeated. "Well then, begin the warm-up sequence."

"Yes, sir," Snively answered enthusiastically and left the bridge. As the doors slid closed behind him he stopped for a moment and sighed wearily. Events, it seemed, were no longer proceeding nearly as much in his favor. He was, he surmised, quite lucky to have escaped with his life, let alone any ambitions of succession. And for the news of his treachery to have been received with such… dared he think it, approval? It was unbelievable.

And yet, it had all fallen, somehow. And Snively had a sneaking suspicion that 'somehow' was in some way related to the malfunction that caused the Doctor's emergency restart. He had only two questions. The first was a generalized 'what happened?' The second, less important to the empire, perhaps, but of more immediate importance to Snively, was 'what effect did this have on the Doctor's other, the Eggman?' Had this fissure in his uncle's mind been fixed by the restart? Or was the restart, somehow, the result of the same degenerative trend that had persisted ever since the Eggman's emergence? "Either way," Snively whispered as he resumed walking, "I don't see how any good can possibly arise out of this situation."


End file.
